It was never meant to be permanent. But as Madame Veritas
said, few things were, notable exceptions aside.
Sandra didn’t know how long she’d been at what the others
called “the way station”. She only knew that she had been standing on the train platform with heartache behind her and heartache in front of her. When she saw
the wind move the branches of a willow tree to reveal a hazy looking patch near
its trunk, Sandra didn’t hesitate. She had been reared on tales of Narnia, and
just enough of her heart remained alive enough to whisper, go look.
She did. Then she was here.
Not everyone who found their way here stayed long. She had
seen people who managed just one nervous glance around the place before they went
back the way they came. But then there were the ones who arrived with looks of
both wonder and relief on their faces. They, like her, remained.
They found things to keep them busy, ways to help Madame Veritas and each other. The peace of the place made it easy to find a rhythm
between work and rest. But no one could stay forever and eventually they all
took one last walk with her before leaving.
The pull to go on that walk finally came to Sandra. It was
kin to the impulse that made her go to the willow in the first place.
“Ready to return?” Madame Veritas asked.
“No,” Sandra said. “I betrayed the two people I love best.
They have no idea of who I really am.”
“Do you know who you are?”
“I know myself better than I did before I came here,” Sandra
said.
“That’s a good place to start,” said Madame Veritas.
“Is it good enough?”
“That’s up to you.”
They walked through the garden in silence. Sandra had spent
many hours here learning how to bring out the best in her favorite flowers. She
gathered a few seeds before looking at Madame Veritas and saying, “Yes, it will
be enough.”
She walked out from under the branches of the willow to find
everything was the same as when she left.
Not everything, she thought, holding her seeds. That
will be enough.
Song Choice: Integrity Blues by Jimmy Eat World
Liner Notes For This Groove: This flash fiction piece was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United, On My Way.
