She certainly saw why her father had called the contents of the old box a feminine legacy. Were these actual people in the story on the green pages? Were any of them? Were the places real? Any of them? And the language? What about it?
When Muriel was satisfied with her viewing through the mask, she slipped it upward onto her forehead and said to Miranda, “We must begin our return home.” They headed back toward the structure where they had exited from the passageway above the cave.
Muriel produced the key from the pocket of her shirt. “Let’s go. Hold onto the key with me. Cave or garden, which will it be?”
“Cave.” As she said the word, Miranda took hold of the key.
Muriel was pouring tea from the three-legged black pot which Miranda had bought for her study. They had left a fire burning in the wood stove and Muriel apparently had stoked it since their return and heated the tea.
Although she fought with herself to keep from imagining animals, a cougar appeared down the beach. It was walking purposefully toward them. Muriel put her hand on Miranda’s arm. She had to hold Miranda still.
Rachel set the green pages down on her lap. She leaned back in the chair and stretched her arms above her head. The story she was reading was raising many … Continue reading Opening the Box, Part 3
Miranda could see the spider’s web as she walked up to the workshop she’d been constructing. Sunlight was sparkling through some of the drops left on the web from the morning’s heavy dew. She had never seen such an enormous spider.
