Friday, January 28, 2005

The Note

Hands ruined by rough hard labor carefully pickup a folded note written on ivory vellum stationary with the initials S G embossed across the top. It was left on a bench in the gardens topside of the Mine. Carefully the rough calloused hands unfold the paper and dark glowing eyes read the following by the light of a setting sun:


To My Fellow Patrons,

One of the Miners has come up from Mines below the Cafe and has taken to strolling through the herb garden I've planted outside my Curiosity Shop.

She comes out just before sunset and walks down the little gravel path edged with Bee Balm; those are the flowers that are red and purple and smell just like honey. If you haven't seen my garden recently ( and I'm hoping some of you will soon ) I've scattered here and there among the Nicotiana my little stone gargoyles that my Aunt Akela gave to me the summer she crashed landed her plane and was nearly killed in a town called Abandon.

What I find interesting is the attention the Miner pays to those little statues. When she picks them up she handles them gently, as if she were holding a kitten or some other small delicate animal. She always puts them back down carefully and I've noticed she'll give them a little pat on the head before she stands back up again.

I've called hello a few times to her and she looks at me with what I can only describe as frank curiosity. Like the look you would be wearing if your cat were to walk up to you and ask how your day went.Then she pulls her shoulders back and moves away from me slowly. When there's some distance between us she simply turns and walks back the way she came.

Her eyes interest me most of all; how would I describe them? Ah, yes...feral. They look very bright and very feral.

I think that the next time I see her I'm going to invite her in to tell me her story.

I hope no one objects.
********************************************************************************

The dark orange eyes are flare as the Miner looks up into the setting sun and she says with a low laugh, " I certainly hope not ". She folds the paper and places it in the back pocket of her worn blue jeans and she walks up the path to the doorway that is the entrance way to the Curiosity Shop

2 Comments:

At 1:02 AM, Blogger Shiloh said...

Anita Marie,
I look forward to reading her story. I have a feeling it's going to be interesting...

 
At 5:12 PM, Blogger Believer said...

Gargoyles? Feral eyes? Ooooooh. I'd love to hear her story--but I shall watch my back.

 

Post a Comment

<< Home