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Tying the little letter with the softest green ribbon, I tucked it safely inside a large tree, the one she often leaned against in the park. A few days passed, I eagerly awaited her return. Often I visited in her quaint little home. She was alone in more ways than one, in the dark her heart was heavy, her mind plagued with demons of adversity. I stood at her door longingly as she cried into her cushions. A week had gone, she ate very little. She just couldn’t bring herself to leave that dark room. The rain came down hard that day, gushing down the rooftop, streaming down her window in a rage. Worn and exhausted she opened the curtains to gaze out at the little park. She could see not one tree through the streaming waters, and I thought she would break down in sobs again. Instead I saw a soft gleam in her eyes as she quickly slipped on her coat and made her way out the door. At last (I smiled) she had found the strength to return to her favorite spot, even with the weights of melancholy clamping onto her every being. She walked calmly though noticeably distraught. It's as if she were entering the Gates of End; Her hands reaching for the tree till at last she clutched it and weeped in agony. This was my last chance, I knew. She was saying goodbye to her beautiful park. Those beautiful trees— her only haven amidst the glare of the world! She was begging for relief, for the end, so with my hand, I wafted the wind one last time, vigorously. Out of the hollow of the tree popped the note, dry and unscathed. She stared at it curiously for a while, then sheltered it gently in her heavy coat. I could only watch and wait and hope. She looked around as if expecting this note to be for merely another but I knew deep inside her soul that she understood. It was always meant for her. -words by Laura B
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