by Trish Mercer
When they finished eating, Asrar brought to Mahrree a grubby piece of parchment. She glanced first at Shem, who nodded.
“Absolutely. It’s for her, after all.”
Mahrree took it gingerly, recognizing that it was old.
“She wrote it the night she came here,” Asrar told her softly. “She wouldn’t speak to anyone until she had it all written down. She told me later that she didn’t want to risk forgetting anything, and had hoped she might be the one to deliver it. But since she passed away almost five years ago now . . .”
Mahrree read the words scrawled hastily on the parchment.
Someday will come for you. There will be a day when you will be ready to leave it all behind and embrace the truth. But not for many years still, I suspect. Until then, think of this night never again. Should your mind ever find itself surprised by this memory, tell yourself it was just a vivid dream, for that’s all it really is. You can practice looking at the world in different ways, preparing your mind to realize you know really nothing at all, looking at the sky and realizing it changes minute by second, but until that someday comes, nothing will ever quite make sense. That’s all right. But when that day does come, everything will hit you with such finality and power you will never again be able to forget it or deny it. You will find the truth and run to it.