My last post was in honor of my sister, but it only reflected something common between us.
Now I need to write about Linda herself. An honest fairy tale, but not a true story, for who can know the fathomless truth of anyone?
In this tale the child is led deeper into the hall of mirrors, which was in fact an enchanted forest. A bewitched forest.
And the more frightened she became the farther she fled into the foggy interior of the woods. There she made her stand, a brave and lonely thing, and built her refuge and her prison.
Or course, these enchanted forests are invisible to others. You can walk around in broad daylight and nobody would know you are lost. As the saying goes, you never see the forest for the trees.
So the child couldn’t tell anyone where she was. I’m here, she would cry. Can’t you hear me?Read More »