An awkward, irregular moon, like a squeezed-out teardrop, or something caught while falling, hung frozen in place over Paulette.
Trees whispered, though she saw none of them stirring. She felt her deeper heart calling….
… Her eyes ceded control, opening to those pulsing glows and darting spheres that had been greeting her recent nights in the woods. … High noon was for those who could only see “stuff.” Night was for those of a more magical nature. For those who loved mystery. Beyond the world of dense physical forms is a realm that flows everywhere unbroken.
Whatever these lights were, they thrived in that world. One of the glowing forms drew closer now, almost as though taking a look at her. But then almost immediately it moved on again; going about its business, whatever that might have been.
Paulette thought of Mary. Perhaps the only person she had ever truly loved. Can the spirit of someone released too soon from life wander the forest? Is that what these were; were they spirits? Could Mary’s be wandering happy somewhere until her time came and her place in Heaven was ready for her?
If there even was a Heaven.
If there was a God who cared and understood; who let you in even after you had taken your own life.
“Oh God, if you exist,” Paulette prayed in passionate silence, “Please give sweet Mary a rest.”
One tree stirred, and one tree only.