CCC #103
Behind the X
Three crosses marked the wall.
Nobody in the village remembered who put them there, only that children were warned never to climb it.
Naturally, that guaranteed we would.
At thirteen, we brought a ladder, two torches and enough courage for exactly five minutes.
Behind the wall was nothing remarkable—an abandoned garden swallowed by weeds, an old stone bench and the remains of a fountain.
“See?” I laughed. “Nothing.”
Then my friend pointed at the bench.
Carved deeply into the stone were three names.
Ours.
We ran.
Thirty years later, I returned to the village.
The wall was still standing.
The three crosses were still there.
But someone had added a fourth.
I didn’t climb the wall this time.
Some childhood warnings, I finally understood, weren’t meant to frighten children.
They were meant to keep something else in.
With love, coffee, poetry, and stardust,
— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫
New song out 💜
If you want a reading, send me an email:
Leave a comment