The Woman of White Lilies

It was at ten o’clock in the evening when a woman paraded into town; Jersey Hills. The crescent moon titled back, asleep with the stars of trillions of nightlights among the vast, dark sky. The town was almost deserted as the day entered the late stages of the night and the people are tired of their errands and activities.

Ethan is tired from all the said errands. They drove him to the ground today. Luckily, it’s not taxes.

He hates taxes. As much as everyone else.

As he walks home, fiddling with his house keys, Ethan sighs and contemplates any or all things he must do by the end of the week. That’s when he heard the gallop of a horse heading into town. Ethan looks up and sees a lovely white horse, a stranger on the saddle.

A woman wearing a long, black cloak. The small, shown parts of a long, forest green dress underneath, and hooked on her arm; a basket full of flowers…lilies, Ethan guesses after a moment as the woman stops the horse by a lamppost indicating the border entrance of the town, caressing its long hair, mumbling something, and carefully, gets down.

Ethan should be heading home but he couldn’t help it; the town doesn’t get many visitors. He watches as the woman walks towards him, the first person down the path, with a smile on her face.

“Hello,” She greeted before opening the basket a little wider -which allowed Ethan to see countless lilies- and held one out for him. “Here…” She spoke, picking one out and giving it to Ethan with a now sad smile: “Have a lily, they would appreciate it.”

No payement, no trick. Ethan takes the lily, albeit a bit hesitantly, and watches as the woman gives him one final smile before moving along to the next person walking down the road.

Ethan watches her as she, with a kind smile on her face, walks to the next person she sees and hands them a lily. It’s slightly bewitching. She doesn’t miss a person -asleep or awake. As she crosses houses with the lights sleeping with their owners, she places a single lily on each doorstep. No one had to pay, no one was tricked, and no one got treated unkindly. And just like him, others watched her after, hesitantly, taking the lily offered. Confused, curious, and weirded out.

The woman didn’t care about the eyes on her. She just gave a lily and moved on, her smile sad, yet hopeful, with each offering. Even when someone declines the lily, she smiles and places the lovely flower by their feet before walking to the next. Not unkind.

“Who do you think she is?”

Ethan jumps where he stands and looks beside him. Samuel, the town’s locksmith, carrying a flower of his own. His dark skin was slightly sweaty -probably just closed up shop after a busy day. He looks at Ethan, patiently waiting for a response.

“...I don’t know,” Ethan says, shaking his head and looking her way again.

Samuel nods to the flower in Ethan’s grasp. “That from her, too?”

Looking down at the lily, Ethan mumbles a quiet ‘yes’.

“Any guess as to why?” Samuel glances between their two lilies and the woman disappearing at the end of the road.

Ethan shakes his head. “Not a clue, man.”

Samuel nods, and after a moment, walks away -probably to head home. But Ethan’s curiosity gets the best of him and he makes his way down the road, trying to see where the woman is heading. From the corner of his eye, Ethan sees a few others doing the same.

Goosebumps form on his arms as he sees the woman’s final destination; the town’s graveyard.

Her long, black cloak and green dress sweep the snow beneath her, her hood never falling from her long brown hair, and her eyes staring straight ahead, not daring to look anywhere else. Something so simple yet bewitching, mysterious. Ethan wonders why this visiting woman is here and why at a graveyard of all places.

She stops. Ethan and the few townspeople watch as she stands before a grave, an empty slab of stone aside from the date. No name, nothing of family. A young soul that had died last year. No townsperson knew who the grave belongs to or their history. Some even made rumors about it not belonging to anyone. And the even weirder rumor was that it’s a cursed gravestone.

Ethan never believed that one.

The woman stood before the nameless gravestone for a moment. Two of the townspeople lingering started feeling creeped out and decide to leave. Ethan hesitates on leaving.

She sits down, in front of the grave, and places whatever remaining lilies over it. A small bouquet of five, maybe seven -Ethan couldn’t count them clearly.

…She doesn’t do anything else. Ethan doesn’t know how long she intends on staying there and he certainly doesn’t know why she wants to stay there.

After one more minute of the woman just sitting by the grave, doing nothing (maybe talking to herself) Ethan leaves and makes his way home. Though, he wonders.

Who is she?

Why did she give lilies to whoever she saw?

What’s so special about a nameless gravestone?

Where did this woman come from?

Before shutting his eyes, under the warm covers of his bed, Ethan hears the gallop of the horse the woman came with. His memory helps him recall that she’s been here in his sleepy state.

She left. After hours. Ethan fell asleep thinking that would be the last time he ever sees her. But he’s mistaken. For the strange woman that gave out white lilies came back.

Again and again. Continuously.

She never says anything, but she smiles always, white lilies filling her basket.

Why?