Today was Shannon’s moving day. She sold most of her furniture so she could pack the rest of her belongings in a rented van. This morning she took her overnight bag and a few final suitcases, piled them on top of a box of books and movies, and locked the van shut. Then she drove out of Washington without looking back.
I think that this could be a good thing for her, after all. Better for her to have a fresh start than to remain in one place, where she must harden her heart to protect herself. Yes, there has been some hardness growing in her, but perhaps in a new place I will be able to work through that, using a new outlook and perspective to reach through her defenses. I’ve done it before, after all.
Her parents met her at the apartment she had chosen, a spacious place on a busy street. They helped her unload the van, then took her out to dinner to celebrate her new position. Shannon enjoyed the meal, and though her mother asked if she had been seeing anyone, she said nothing of Oliver.
When she returned alone to her new home, which looked rather spare without all the furnishings that make a house a home, she lit a candle and sat down to watch the little flame burning. Only then did her aura clear for me, and I could see her bittersweet mood.
I settled next to her and wrapped her in my wings. “It will be all right,” I said to her. “I am here.”
And somewhere, very deep in her heart, she was reassured.