Tale 97- The Writer's Isle
The Traveler continued down the path, finding herself by a large field of flowers and finding a girl sitting up on a fence, writing in some sort of notebook. Curious, she stepped closer, the girl giving her a smile and swinging her legs so that she was facing her. The fields behind were in bloom with forget-me-nots, reminding the Traveler of the promise she vowed to keep, and the girl in front of her turned her book around, revealing a drawing of a desk with plenty of fish and life surrounding it. She smiled down at the Traveler, who hopped up onto the fence beside her, the girl telling the tale of ‘the Writer’s Isle’
‘There exists an island in the middle of a lake, surrounded by iridescent fish and rushing water, cherry blossom trees overlooking the desk which sits upon it. The place is decorated in lanterns and paper cranes, constellations etched into the sky above and glowing each night like jewels. It’s a solitary oasis, a place in which a writer can come to achieve peace and transcribe the world which exists in her head. She writes out every detail, ensuring no loose end is untied, and creates scenarios each and every day to make herself feel happy and fulfilled. And as the days go by, the desk becomes more and more full of paper, a stack of stories beginning that will someday be as tall as the sky. Yet despite feeling fulfilled by the completion of tales, the writer feels a slight sense of loneliness, worrying that it may be too late to build friends and connections due to having spent so long in isolation. And yet, she holds out hope that she will find someone out there who appreciates her talent, and who will create wondrous tales alongside her.’
The Traveler smiled slightly as she transcribed, both writers going back to their crafts and sitting in companionable silence, before the afternoon sun began to fall. The Traveler knew she needed a place to stay for the night, she was growing quite tired and hungry once more, and bid farewell to the writer, who gave a small wave and went back to her drawing, hoping it wasn’t too late to make a real, true friend.
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