Her name, and patriotic Uncle
The wood outside the town, into which she travels
A perfect circle which has no end
Her rural and Odyssian New Hampshire small town
She approaches a circle of stones in the clearing, and dug along the center: a five-pointed shape
A hole in the ground, sometimes unseen
"I like ___," the diary in her drawer says, quite Presidentially.
"Not Mike!" she's scribbled next to it, followed by a smiley-face
A cycle that continues endlessly, like a circle
Of all her chores, this she hates most
A ritual slab she lands near after plummeting
That which every hero returns from, and goes to again.
Her icy headlong dive into the earth
She begins to lose sight of it as the night closes in
A Sorceress like Circe, who lays traps for men
The dampness in her pants
She screams it again and again
A stench of decay and bad endings
Her whisper to God comes back
She mistook this for his name for the longest time; was so embarrassed when Amy corrected her. Now she'd never see either again.
She hoped that someone would remember her name one day.
That which every dreamer returns from, and goes to again.
No longer a mouse, it echos throughout the dark chamber
Square-like shapes, etched above the corpse
Matted with sweat against her forehead
Still grips a small etching tool in it's dead skeletal fingers
The University she applied to, and the strange place she finds herself now
She used to see the world differently. But that was back then
Perhaps the worst way for one to die
She studies the curled-up corpse in the corner. It's left one is shattered as well
Her name, and Patriotic Uncle.
A name she once hoped would be remembered by someone.
The letters at the top she can make out, carved in ancient stone crossword-like squares above the corpse...
The story's beginning and end.
Where is my puzzle?