“A voice is a human gift; it should be cherished and used, to utter fully human speech as possible. Powerlessness and silence go together.” ~ Margaret Atwood

“I’d only left the country once as a child. Grandma and Grandpa took me to Victoria, B.C.,” Ashley said. “Between the gardens, Craigdarroch Castle, all of it…everything was so wondrously breathtaking.

“My grandparents had their garden and I dreamt of a library. Inspired by stories, photos, whimsical nonsense, I suppose. Some of the rooms were inspired by the classics, others from museums, galleries, and castles. Each room had a purpose, a designated ‘voice’ if you will. Perfect harmony, from the calming blue ocean of the soft carpet underfoot to the seasonal collage of the ‘practical’ rooms, and the stars above, waiting for a guide towards the second star on the right.”

Evan shook his head as the thunder clapped in the distance. “And you claim you can’t find words.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t expecting a basement. Almost a ‘coming up from the ashes’ bit, I suppose. Another level of story, huh?” He smiled. “Hey, before you fly out tomorrow, I’ve one more precious item to entrust in your care – for keeps.”


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