Shea Aleaear: Chapter 1

            Typical Shea-stuff was stacked haphazardly in the small bin, making Ali smile as she sifted through its contents. Long lute strings, broken from many nights of use wound their way in and around and through everything. Paper was the main component of the pile, and an old broken bottle of black ink left a trail through the maze, zigzagging in chaotic and blotched lines amongst the letters, songs, and notes. Some of these works had been loosely discarded, as though their composer had simply grown bored with the idea, while others had been snowballed or shredded in a passionate rage. Ali carefully unfolded one such abused piece and was amused to find a detailed drawing of a young man with dark hair, bright eyes and a crooked smile. The page had been mauled in what looked like a childish fit. Burn marks, puncture wounds and bold ink lines ran across its surface. She snorted before placing it to the side with the rest. What remained beyond that was a random concoction: broken seashells in every shape and colour imaginable, feathers which had once been bright and handsome but now were drooped and mangy, crunchy broken bits of small speckled eggshells, a clump of old wilted flowers, and half a stale biscuit folded in a brittle brown leaf. Finally, amongst all this she found what she sought: a small piece of paper with her name scrawled across it and the beginning lines and notes of a song.