“When I reached the upper floor, I saw two closed doors to two rooms that faced each other, between them the tiny landing I was on. I carefully opened the door to one room and then the other, bracing myself for the screech of old hinges protesting my intrusion. But each door swung surprisingly smoothly, so I looked into each room, then chose the one with furniture in it. I stepped in, studied Julianne’s bed with its flat pillow and patchwork quilt, a chest of drawers with a small mirror on its top, and her trunk. I walked across the braided rug in the middle of the room and looked out the window. It looked away—away over fields and pastures, away from the house Isaac lived in, the one she’d lived in with him. She could have chosen the other room as her bedroom and seen the house, seen the boys playing outdoors, seen what had been hers. But she hadn’t. She’d chosen this room, and her view was far away, somewhere else, maybe the direction she’d gone when she disappeared. The other room, the one she didn’t choose, was empty, offering only one thing, a view of her old life.”

Taken from “Mine to Tell” available on

Choices we make – most often from love, and most often definitive. There is no middle ground, no way to live between there and here, or then and now. But live. Bring life to where you are, and abide there.

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