Magpie Tale 126
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The window was the answer.
It was a question I had always asked. What’s out there?
Mother Gothel never answered.
But she had to have the window. She had to go in and out.
And slowly the window brought my answer.
Out there were pears and apples.
Which came from trees, she let slip. I saw trees from my window so it wasn’t much.
But the trees that I could see never had pears or apples, so it was something.
Out there were dresses. They didn’t grow on trees.
Mother Gothel did not know how much she told me when she told me that.
When she told me how a dress was made, with impatience at my ignorance, she did not know she told me there were people like us beyond the walls of my tower.
I imagined other towers, with other girls.
Mother Gothel never knew I could see the men hunting. Nor did she know one of them sent a bird with a letter to me, through the window.
He told me everything of the world I longed to know. Letter after letter after letter.
Mother Gothel burned them when she found them. But it was too late. The window had brought me answers. When she left, raging, I was ready.
It had taken me a long time to learn those knots. The hunter’s pictures had not been very good. But I secured sheets and curtains and quite a few dresses together. And climbed out of the window, my doorway to the answer, what’s out there?