A Whisper in the Wind
Nutmeg jumped down into Margie’s lap as she put aside the last of the boxes that were now strewn all over the little cottage. She curled up in Margie’s lap, purring softly, contented, to finally have a moment of Margie’s attention. Margie scratched her ear, sighing softly, “Oh Meg, you always choose the worst timing, my dear.” She gently picked Nutmeg up and set her on the bed, feeling eager to get out into the sunshine beaming in through her bedroom window.
Margie was new to Susurrus and could not wait to explore the little college town. A sense of adventure was calling to her, a little whisper in the day, encouraging her to make new discoveries. Margie could barely contain her excitement as she stepped out into the crisp autumn afternoon, smiling to herself at the sound of the crunching of leaves beneath her feet. Without realizing it, she had begun to skip down the street. A small boy holding his mom’s hand seemed to catch her contagious enthusiasm for the magic awakening in the air as he and his mom began to skip cheerfully along the sidewalk behind her.
A few blocks down, Margie spied a little street vendor selling handcrafted baskets. Their handiwork was quite elaborate and beautiful. Margie selected three different baskets, paid the vendor, and whisked away with them swaying on her arm, a plan for each one erupting in the recesses of her mind. She closed her eyes, feeling giddy with the headiness of the autumnal vibes filling her with childlike joy. Fall had always been her favorite season, that is, up until a year ago.
Margie swallowed hard against the painful lump in her throat and brushed away the tears that escaped, cascading down her cheeks. She had moved here for a fresh start. Margie shook off the soggy vibes and willed herself to enjoy the rest of the afternoon. There was a rich history to this town Margie knew she needed to understand. Margie remembered her grandmother talking fondly about her childhood growing up here in Susurrous. She found herself smiling and instantly knew this was the energy she needed to hold onto to help her discover the mysteries that Susurrous held in store for her.
How had the evening crept up so quickly on her, she felt like she had scarcely gotten the opportunity to explore, and now the sun was starting to set over the horizon. Oh well, she knew she did not have anything but leftover pizza waiting for her in the fridge at home, and there was an enticing aroma piquing her interest. Margie followed the smell of spicy sweetness around the corner to Glendora’s Brewitchery. A quaint little combination cafe and bookstore, two of Margie’s favorite things.
Margie went inside and was; immediately greeted by the warmth of a crackling fire and the mixed aroma of apples, pumpkin, and cinnamon. To her left, there was a sign that said, “Seat yourself, and we will be right with you.” She decided to take a seat by the fire, realizing she had forgotten to bring her jacket, or at least layer up with her scarf. The afternoon had been so lovely, though the evening had turned a bit on the chilly side. She gathered a menu and chose a cozy winged armchair in front of the fireplace.
What an intriguing menu; it had the look of aged stationery, and the lettering was; etched in shiny gold that appeared to dance by the firelight. A chime sounded in the distance, breaking the spell cast over Margie’s senses. Margie mentally shook off the odd feeling tingling through her. It was almost as if she knew the lively silver-haired beauty; standing in front of her, asking if she needed a bit longer or if she was ready to order.
Margie looked down and strolled over the menu with her eyes, quickly deciding on their seasonal specials of a Spiced Chestnut Latte with a hearty helping of Roasted Apple and Sage Stuffing. The silver-haired woman replied spiritedly, “Hi, I am Essie! Let me get this for you, and meanwhile, feel free to look around!” Margie found herself transcended into the night sky as she gazed into Essie’s smiling eyes. They were like liquid pools of serene sapphire sprinkled with stardust.
Essie waltzed off to the kitchen like the softest breeze on a summer’s eve, leaving Margie again with that strange tingling sensation coursing through her. Margie got up and went over to the bookshelf built into the stone wall, trying to shake off the strange feeling. She stood gazing around the Brewitchery, realizing not only was it cozy and charming, but there was also a medieval vibe to it. Margie turned her attention back to the bookshelf, carefully choosing a leather-bound book with the title, “Timeless Tales.”
She took it back with her to the winged chair and traced her fingers over the gold leafing, it was exquisite, and the title was quite fitting of the book while in excellent condition, showed its antiquity. She opened to the middle of the book, where there was a lovely portrait of a young girl with a snowy white owl perched on her shoulder. There was something familiar about the portrait tugging at Maggie’s distant memories. She did not know why, but she felt like the book had somehow chosen her. She knew the thought was silly, though it was curiously an enchanting notion.
