The walls of her consciousness were bound by wonderment, yet her hair curled at the ludicrous nature of their behavior. Words speak through the lips as if flesh had anything at all to do with meaning. The flight was long and hard, like wings beating above her mind, the warm response of the crowd an affirmation of longing. The why's and where's never came to her as easily as the if's and maybe's. Paper never stretches out as gently as a dove, although it is often asked to carry the same message.
Miracles happen even when unexpected.
She needed the taste of certainty even if she couldn't swallow the story that went along with it. We have no place to go but into our hearts. I will light a candle if the flame will burn the indecision from my mind, pull my thoughts into a single, glowing point of light. Help came when she was least able to grasp the significance of it. Gently, the ways of the world would show her how consistent love can be when it is accompanied by linen placemats, his slow-cooked broth, and a quiet smile.