She is almost home. They all
have been…these wonderful places to rest, to seek shelter from the outside. The
night breeze, so gentle and unflawed ruffles her hair just a bit in front of her
eyes as she makes her way through her overgrown yard. The smell of sweet roses
greet her devotedly, so bittersweet. She tucks the few blond stray hairs from
the summer sun behind her ears and takes the steps up to her “home,” her resting
place. The key turns, and she thinks silently to herself, how very much she
loves this resting place…how she’s truly loved all her safe places…these places
in waiting. Yet as she walks in, she knows she is walking in to nothing, to no
one, to an empty space…
She shuts the door behind her and breathes in this reality
of hers, this reality she never anticipated. Some days paralyzed at the door,
imagining what could be waiting at the top of the stairs. She imagines the
voices, the various noises, the arms that might welcome her, and the many names
she might be called.
But then, she manages to breathe again, a different kind of
breath, a heavy, saturated, corpulent sigh. She sets down her keys. And knows she hears
nothing... knows, in this resting place it is just she. The only noises heard
are of her own thoughts, at times deafening in her mind.
And then another thought, a more familiar voice, pick yourself up, dust yourself
off. No more than that. With lackluster verve she bends down to grab the mail
and her moxie deep within and takes the stairs, keeping her gaze locked at her
feet as to avoid her fantasies of what could be. Reaching the top,
turning the corner she does hear a noise…
SURPRISE!!!
She stands in stupor for a moment. The hugs pile on and her
smile grows bright. A single tear rolls down her cheek. Inside she questions its intent, happiness or melancholy.
There was something waiting for her today. For now, it will have
to be enough, she thought. Surprises do come. She will hang on to that. If only
for a day.
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