𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢

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When the water in the Scrubb household's spare room disappeared, all three children were completely dry

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When the water in the Scrubb household's spare room disappeared, all three children were completely dry. They all looked at each other. "Eustace!" his mother called. "Eustace, what are you doing up there? Jill Pole's dropped in for a visit."
There was a look of sadness in Lucy and Edmund's eyes, yet one of pure amazement in Eustace's. If there was one song that could describe the children's visits to Narnia, it would be We'll Meet Again. For, despite the Pevensies and the Opals knowing they were never to return to Narnia, they couldn't help but feel like it wasn't gone forever.

We spoke often of Narnia in the days that followed. And when my cousins left, after the war ended, I missed them with all my heart, as I know all Narnians will miss them and Phillis till the end of time.

The children got up, exchanging a sad glance. Eustace picked up the painting he had once despised and placed it back on its hook, with a newfound love for it. Edmund and Lucy waited for him by the door. They looked back at the painting, and the water really did move and the ship really did disappear behind a wave. Lucy closed the door behind her. She closed the door on everything she'd ever known.

There was a weird sort of feeling in the children's stomachs. Like when you return to school after the summer holidays; you're upset to be back, but you know summer will arrive soon enough. It was exactly like that.

Two days later, a letter arrived in the post. Eustace had collected the mail, sorting through it. "Edmund, this one's for you," he said.
Edmund furrowed his brows, slightly curious. He opened it, revealing a squished flower. He lifted it up, inspecting it quietly. Lucy and Eustace watched him from the other side of the table. Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold had gone out for the morning, meaning the three were alone. "That's pretty," said Lucy.
Eustace would usually have said something like 'what's so pretty about that? It's all squashed - rather ugly, if you ask me' but he didn't. In fact, such a thought didn't even cross his mind. "Who's it from?" he said rather.
"Phillis," Edmund replied, recognising her beautiful handwriting immediately.

Dear Eddie,
I had some spare time on my hands, so I wanted to write to you. Tommy hopes you are all well, as do I. It feels weird to think Lucy, you and I are never to return to Narnia. I suppose, in a way, if we're no use to them, we would just be getting in the way. Yet, we've nothing with us to prove it really exists. I don't doubt that if someone were to find out about our tales of Narnia, we would most likely end up in some form of mental asylum.
I received a letter from Elmer an hour or so ago. He says all is going well and he expects to be home soon. We can only hope, I suppose. He says Susan is doing well, though I imagine she has been writing to you. I hope Peter is okay too. I'd hate to be studying when the weather is so nice here!
I hope all three of you are managing in these difficult times. Elmer expects the war shall be over soon enough, whatever that means.
It's quite weird, really. Everything's changing. But it's been like this before. We're just back to the beginning. No expectations of stumbling upon a magical land. Now, we're just perfectly
normal children, who will grow up to lead perfectly normal lives. We have no one to talk to of Narnia except ourselves. Though, just because we can't return, doesn't mean we have to forget. All we have is our memories and as long as we let them grow stronger, and not let them weaken, we'll be okay. I'm sure of it.

Yours,
Phillis

𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴. ➪ 𝙴. 𝙿𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚎 Where stories live. Discover now