It was wonderful and also kind of sad. It was wonderful, because Mom and Dad got all romancy, and they were so happy they kept hugging me as if they’d just made me all over again. And it was sad, because everything was so-o-o romantic, and here I was, all alone. Not even a sort of boyfriend to dream about – just the neighbor, a complete and total stranger. But it was good to take a break from the spooky mirror, and that mirror didn’t seem nearly so disconcerting or important, or even real, here in magic-land at the ocean. I spent two glorious days doing nothing much other than breathing deeply and waking through the woods or along the beach. On Sunday, early in the afternoon after we’d lingered over a brunch, we took the flight of steep and rugged steps down to the ocean and walked along the shore. It would be the last time to take this walk until I returned some unknown day in the future. The shear face of the rocks rose up beside me, and the fantastic shapes of the ancient evergreens were intertwined, leaning out over the precipice overhead.
