DIASPHANES
It sprouted from a pod– a seed cracking at the seams, from it emerged a thing. A neck. A mouth. Then the mouth got longer and it became hard, as hard as bone– it was a beak. Its hair grew wispy and then multiplied into feathers. It let out a shriek as its neck began to bulge. Oh what could it be but another beak peaking through the ruffled feathers. Soon a face, then a head, then another serpent like neck. Again this happened until there were three. Born was Diasphanes, who would soon be protector of the gates that guarded memory and all sensibility. Torn between the rational and irrational, it wandered with its many heads facing many roads, only to find itself stationed back at its post, keeping out the unknowing, and keeping in the all knowing.
When dusk laid its cool blanket over the land, Diasphanes would bow its heads and like a flower, close its petals. When dawn whispered its warmth upon the land, Diasphanes rose again. What was perceived as sleep was a defense mechanism. When night came about, and light was no longer able to guide those dependent on sight, the land is overtaken by the lurking. When the all unknowing wandered it became dangerous to be conscious. Diasphanes would use its many heads to pick the over-ripened mulberries from the trees in order to create an impenetrable force from the lurking. This act required full cooperation from all three. The middle head typically held good reign and control over situations despite the third-spawned head’s mother’s catholic guilt. Unfortunately, the first spawned, the experiment, knew no bounds and would most likely never achieve this. Their disputes would soon subside as they slipped into a drunken stupor. Petals would subsequently begin to close and their minds would be protected from the disruptiveness that crept the night.
And as expected, the unpredictable did the predictable which yielded an unfavorable result. In a sober mind, the first to come to life was the first to leave and with it left its head. You see, the berries provided a rich soothing feeling that encouraged the creature to close its petals at moon rise to protect from the lurking. With all disregard to sense, the id of the creature got the best of it and fell into the unbalanced, the irrational, and zone of psychosis. No blood was lost, no tears were wept. The head lay lifeless, the neck limp on the ground. The Ego and Superego watched in silence as their other part had parted.