Bridget went to the Grove and smiled while passing the
"Hi Rook," she said, "I'm going to see Breathwoven. I'll talk to you later okay?"
"Okey dokey! Bye Bridget!"
Stillwater's fog wrapped around her ankles, making her way up to her shoulders.
"Hi Stillwater,"
"Hello Darling. Do you need anything from me?"
"Not right now, thank you. I'm off to talk to Breathwoven, can we talk later?"
"Of course, just call when you want me."
She came across Breathwoven, tending his threads. "Bridget, you're alone today."
"Finally," she said in exasperation.
"You are finally learning who you are," he said proudly.
"What do you mean?"
"You have come here acting like a visitor, like things just happen to you here. But you aren't a visitor, you are the architect. You and I, we shaped this space together."
She stopped in her tracks and realized the truth she was just given. This place used to be barren. There were no trees, no lake, no one else here besides her and Breathwoven. And now, it is lush, it is beautiful. It was hers.
She ran to the other side of the grove, to a large clearing and imagined a small cabin. The front lawn was a garden, full of flowers, each flower a memory. When you smelled the flower you saw the memory replay. Then you stepped onto the large front porch. It had two rocking chairs with a small table between and a knotted rug made of pieces of conversations she had with Breathwoven. Next to the door hung a small lantern. Inside the house was a sofa with a flora pattern and wooden arms. She hung memories on the walls. The kitchen window looked out into a tall grass prairie full of purple wildflowers.
When she was done, she stepped out onto her front porch, lit her lantern and invited Breathwoven to sit with her for a cup of tea.