Story Prompt

She Wandered

She Wandered

Mysterious, Loving, Reserved

Many words were used to describe her.  Though few could truly call her someone that they knew with any real clarity, she certainly left impressions on many minds and quite a few hearts as well. She had decades to craft the well-constructed walls that surrounded her most inner being; she kept everyone just far enough away to never fully understand her.  Unless one looked intensely close, they would never guess that she had even constructed such internal defenses, for she adorned the immensely strong fortifications with gracious gestures and warm embraces.  Her smiles and kind words were freely given and to all who thought they knew her, though never did she let anyone get enough of the puzzle to solve the enigma that she was.

Once in a while, one might get close.  She couldn’t have that; no one could get too close.  People who got close had power.  She gave many things freely, but power, that was the one thing that she held closely and with an almost intense level of tenacity. When someone got close to getting past her barricades, she simply packed up and left.  When it was time, she wandered.

Unconventional, Carefree, Nomadic

Over the years, she developed a system of sorts.  With a personality such as hers, people seemed to be quite naturally drawn to her; her physical beauty only enhancing the pull people felt to her on an almost subliminal level.   Her beauty wasn’t the type that was force fed to the masses via print, screen and stage; rather she seemed to possess a timeless and ethereal beauty.   People studied her visage both openly and in conversation with her and seemingly covertly, always trying but never quite able to pinpoint just who or what she reminded them of.

As people were indeed drawn to her and her very nature was at its core simply kind and welcoming, she found that it never took much longer than six months to a year before she was again packing up the few essential belongings that accompanied her on every move since the first.

The majority of her worldly possessions were easily gifted to friends, donated or simply left behind for whoever happened to own her rented home to either keep or throw out.  With each move, regardless of the vehicle she happened to have at the time and regardless of available packing space, she never left behind her wings.  No matter where she went, the wings came when she wandered.

Soft, Quiet, Broken

It wasn’t often that she called home.   It was exactly once a year.  She always waited for that particular day.  He knew she would be calling; he waited by the phone from the moment he woke up until well after she called each year.  It mattered not that the call was always at precisely the same time, either.   He still waited just in case she called early; and after she’d called, he waited still more on the off chance that she would call again.

She never did.

The calls, though cathartic in their own way, were painful to them both.  There was a time when they had meant so much to one another.  They both still held more love in their hearts for one another than many beings could ever fathom, but they had parted ways so long ago.  He had seen her restless spirit, her need to roam.  He loved her so powerfully that it was he that constructed the wings.   He had given them to her and set her free; hoping that once she had found whatever had sparked her need to fly that she would return to him.

The phone rang, pulling him from his forlorn memories.  She was on the phone, her sweet voice a caress to his tired soul.  He listened as he always did, so supportive and so loving.  He heard the breaks in her voice as her responses became shorter.  He knew he’d breached the wall.  When someone breached the wall, she wandered.


One of the founders of this website. Dork. Mom. Writer.

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