Devonne Brown

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In the old stories, when life went sideways, the princess had to go to the haunted forest to find the oracle. Diane thought she might as well give it a shot. It was a hundred degrees outside. The creek was ankle deep, the shade dappled and dark. She’d start looking here. She’d keep her shoes on for safety. She saw the glistening edge of a broken blue bottle shining in a quiet pool beside the rapid water. There were dangers even in the beauty of a rippling babble of the running brook.

She reached in the water to turn over a rounded rock, and watched a crawdad squirt away in the creek dust. She smiled as it found refuge in the stream’s current as it took the crayfish to the crevice of another rock a little further downstream. He was safe from her. The crawdad wasn’t what she was looking for, he was just something she found.

Diane waded on up stream, the current pushed against her until she stopped knee deep in a swirling pool of dammed up water. Logs had fallen across the stream, caught debris, and created a calm basin of trickling water. Maybe her oracle was here. 

The birds sang soft to the tune of the water. Moss clung to the sides of the hill, and white rhododendron showed off its plumage. She didn’t find any answers, but she did find a bit of peace. Her head cleared, and she breathed.