#4's continued journey to find reality

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“Well back again so soon,” the flower chimed.
“Yes, well there’s so much to think about,” said #4 as she edged away.
On her left she saw a path that glittered with blue moon dust. Upon closer inspection the dust was thousands of Luna moths fluttering. I want to be on the path, she thought to herself. She put one foot on the moving carpet of winged creatures and off she went.
“Goodbye and good luck ,” said the flower.
#4 laid back on the moths and fell deep into the sleep of the dead.
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I fastened my gaze on this woman. Did she know me? Had I seen her face before? Is there a key to fit that eye and if so, where is it and what would it unlock?
“I know you are waiting for your father to come home,” she barked.
What? Do I have a father? My mouth froze shut.
She grew impatient with my silence and turned away.
In her wake tumbled two dogs. One was pure white and the other soot black.
They were having a conversation about the witch.
“Sometimes I wonder,” said tar-baby, who was the black dog.
“Why would you wonder,” yelped white dog.
“There are these men who thrive in witch’s head
they appear when it pleases
dreams they narrate while she’s in bed
there are these men who chat in witch’s head
mumbling under her breath, so much is unsaid
she claims, it is her wheezes
there are these men who control her head
they disappear when it pleases,” recited tar-baby.