The Face

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I wake up to a sunny, calm day. The window sparkles occasionally, and the glass shimmers.

Sometimes, I go down the hill to the city. And today, I did just that.

The wind helps me with going down the hill. The sun shines in an uncomfortably hot way as I trudge across a patch of rocks. 

As I come to a forest of trees, I blink at the green everywhere. Not sure what to do, I follow my instincts, which leads me towards a clear patch of grass in the middle of this land of greenery. I find a fallen tree, and make my makeshift bench. 

The wood is rough, I observe as I sit down. Butterflies flitter near to the ground, and -

Suddenly, I hear soft footsteps. Turning and picking up my woven basket, I hasten to sneak out, but the figure of a human blocks my way. 

An arm places itself on my shoulder. "Sit down," says a young ladylike voice.

I turn back, but not after taking a peek at the girl's face. My heart calms down as I see that it is a normal human.

I sit back on the log. The girl bustles around, plucking berries and taking water from a little trickle flowing down the hill.

I tremble as she takes out a makeshift table and places the berries on it. Who knows? There might be poison in it...

She sits down next to me. "You are Mrs. Weatherington, I presume?" she says softly.

The smooth, pretty voice which matches her face reminds me of my long-lost granddaughter. I turn away from her and wipe a tear from my face. 

The girl slowly reaches out a hand. "Granny?" she whispers, taking my aged, wrinkled hand in hers. "I'm Kate Weatherington."


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