Come Step Into My World

A gusty wind fluttered the cloak of the lone figure standing at the crossroads. It toyed with the loose strands of hair around her face, and brought her the scents of rain and grass. The lonesome music of the wind-swept pines whispered all around her as she looked out over the twinkling lights of a small town. She watched as, one by one, the lights blinked out. Quiet, innocent people were going to their beds down there, but sleep was not for her.

She knew that she had become a legend to the people of the scattered towns. She was the guardian, the night-walker, the one who stood between them and some overshadowing dread they dared not name. Now she stood, silent and alone in a rapidly darkening world, with the crossing of four roads beneath her feet. North, South, East, and West...the possibilities were endless. She knew that adventures and danger lay along each gloomy path, but as she felt the steady strength rising up from her booted feet, she knew that she was ready to go wherever the roads might take her. She needed to go on, to reach some final destination she was, herself, not yet aware of, but still she lingered. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the peace of the night. When she opened them again, her gaze was directed towards the glistening stars...her constant companions through so many long travels.

 As she stared into the heavens, she sensed that something in her world was shifting and slipping away. She had experienced this before, and was not surprised at the subtle changes that began to take place. Some of the life faded from the wind. The gloom and mist lifted from the roadways. And the girl herself transformed from a heroic wanderer into a very ordinary and prosaic sort of person. The spell was broken, and the last shreds of imagination were carried away on the breeze. The girl looked around at the familiar surroundings - a grove of pine trees, the lights of a farm in the distance, the mailbox of a neighbor - and sighed. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. She must go home. The hour was late and she would soon retire to sleep, where she hoped she might re-capture in dreams the magic of wind and stars and pine-songs.