23October2025
I set out for the old abbey on the ridge, but midway the world started to tilt. My legs grew weak, a darkness crept into my vision. The path was a narrow track up the hill, yet I felt utterly drained. I slipped off the trail, sank onto the grass, and let myself collapse. My friend Olivia placed her rucksack gently beneath my head.
Passersby trudged past, glancing at me with curiosity before reaching the stone walls of the ancient shrine. Someone offered me a tablet. I opened my mouth, placed it under my tongue without even asking what it was called. I didnt care. It seemed to ease the pressure a little, but the thought of climbing the hill no longer appealed to me.
Olivia and I made our way down to the brook that trickles through the valley and then back to our inn. Still in my travel clothes, I flopped onto my own bed, feeling a heavy, inexplicable sadness. Why has God barred me from the holy place? I thought. Hes turned me away, saying the purehearted may enter, while I, a sinner, must lie here and reckon with my life.
Harriet, fancy a cup of tea? Olivia asked, eyes bright with concern.
Thanks, Ollie, but Ill pass for now, I murmured, closing my eyes and sighing.
I found myself judging Olivia, even as I knew she was no saint. She has had husbands, fleeting lovers, no children, and she seems unrepentant. Yet she still drifts toward the abbey, perhaps fearing what lies beyond. Everyone wants a glimpse of heaven, hoping to burn bright all their onetime chance, then repent in the twilight of life. Too often we run out of time.
Olivia is a good friendkind, eversupportive, impossible to tame. She can be selfish, proud, and quick to snap, but you cant replace her. Sometimes her pillow is damp with tears that have collected over fortyfour years, never finding a shore. Emotions rise and fall like the tide, and I crave a love that is otherworldly, fierce, and allconsuming.
A voice inside keeps chiding me: One husband, two children, endless relatives, a kitchen that never restshow dull! It whispers, Look around, Harriet, men circle you. Taste love. Youll always return to your Ian, who will take you as you are. Yet youll know passion, fire. Stop wallowing in your domestic swamp! Let loose, my dear, you wont regret it.
I dont want that heat. Honestly, Ive had enough. I once loved Jack with a madness that seemed to scorch the very air. Fate paired us; we romanced each other for two years. He sensed the affair but stayed silent. I even entertained the thought of leaving Ian for him. The one who turned my head, who left me breathless, trembling, heartclenching. Its indescribable.
In the end I walked away from Jack, still loving him, and returned to my family. Sometimes I wonder whyour time together was brief but endlessly joyful. Ian the feelings have long since faded, though they once took my breath away. All that remains is pity, and Im to blame. You drank up my love, dear husband, and I cant hold a grudge.
I tangled myself in that mess, yet never told Olivia about Jack. She still sees me as a sainthow absurd. And the Lord kept me from the abbey a cruel twist.
Letting go of Jack was hard. He was a kindred spirit; we understood each other with halfwords, halfglances. I doubt Ill ever erase him from my memory. Everything with him was wild, fierce, greedy. Such moments happen only once in a lifetime.
Do I want to feel that again, Harriet? I do! Oh, the longing
Olivia, pour the tea, I said, brightening, hugging her tightly. In my head I heard a gentle voice: Sort yourself out, love. Cleanse your soul. I love you. Love yourself. And come back.
