The Vase Read online

look at the face of it she did not want to know time in this timeless moment.

  "The leaving time is now?" she asked more of herself than of Philema.

  "Yes, it is now."

  The tears that were misting Miranda's eyes flowed over the rims and down her face, splashing on her dress. She did not raise her hand to her face as they came to her one by one and hugged and kissed her. She did not sniffle. Her eyes continued to flow. Philema was the last to hug and kiss her.

  "You have strength enough to survive," she said. She pulled from her clothes a handkerchief and wiped the crying woman's face. Philema hugged Miranda and her vase very tightly, stepped back, looked into her face and hugged her again. She handed Miranda the handkerchief and walked away to join the others. Miranda's eyes followed their backs, which became shadowy as her eyes again lost control of themselves. She wiped her face and blew her nose.

  Miranda climbed the knoll and reached the top. She turned for one last look at the happy valley. All the women were standing with their backs to the village watching her. There was neither movement nor sound. She raised her hand and fluttered the handkerchief in farewell, turned to face the lemon scented field she had first entered. In front of her was her house. She looked at her watch, it was eight and daylight told her it was morning.

  Miranda patted her hair with it beautifully intricate patterns, clutched her vase, wiped her still watery eyes with Philema's handkerchief, and stepped up to her front door.

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