Brightly Woven
“Blinking at the early-morning light, I wiped away the last remnants of sleep and said my prayers. My muscles ached from the cramped position I had slept in. The bedsheets beneath me were perfectly tucked in. It was as if no one else had been in at all.I sat up straight. No cloaks, no bags, no boots—no men. I had been left behind.A sharp knock on the door startled me from my thoughts. The small face of Mrs. Pemberly appeared in the doorway.“Oh, bother!” She opened the door wider. She was carryin...g a heavy tray of food. “I thought for sure Owain had come back last night….”“He didn’t come back at all?” I asked.Mrs. Pemberly shook her head and set the tray down on the small table.“Hungry, my dear? I wouldn’t mind some company for breakfast….” After not eating the night before, I was ravenous. As we chatted, I couldn’t shake the image in my mind of Owain, hunkered down next to the little old woman, sipping tea and eating eggs. She asked me where I had come from and where I was going and, when the opportunity presented itself, counted off her ten grandchildren on her fingers, pausing when she momentarily forgot the sixth one’s name.MoreLess
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