Standing at the gates…
Posted on | April 18, 2010 | Comments Off
She found herself standing at the gates once more. The tall iron was cool to the touch. There was a breeze in the air and the smell of freshly cut lawn. The flowers were, as always, well maintained inside the gate and along the pathways. The benches and the birdbaths lay vacant. The vines climbing up the old brick reached up like hands grasping towards the windowsills. No one appeared to be looking out, at least not that she could see.
She looked down and saw she was wearing blue fuzzy slippers and shifted uncomfortably at the thought of this being noticed. There wasn’t anyone around but the iron doors were slightly ajar. She wasn’t sure if she should enter and sit down on a bench or walk away. Where would she go? She decided she would go inside and sit down. There was so much on her mind.
A little girl came and sat next to her.
“It’s getting late!” the little girl said… “My name is Mulysa. M-U-L-Y-S-A.”
She looked over at the little girl’s pale face and dark eyes and wondered if she should have been outside unattended. She also thought that was a very unique spelling for the name. She looked down at her blue fuzzy slippers again embarrassed, but when she lifted her head, Mulysa was gone.
She stood up and looked around when movement from a window caught her eye. It was a little girl who looked just like Mulysa up on the third floor looking out the window. . .
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