Words About Where We Are And What We Know

i am feeling very quiet today. i don’t have much to say, so i am going to let someone else do the speaking for me:

“Home.” Leo worked at a small sliver of wood on the old trunk. “The Island’s always been home to me. How did you like living in New York?”

“I loved it and I hated it. I learned a lot.”

“Like what?” Leo stopped pulling at the sliver and looked at me.

I looked out to the sea. Near the horizon I saw something dark leap out of the water in a beautiful arc. A porpoise. I shivered. “Oh—how very protected we’d been, living in a tiny village like Thornhill all our lives, with visits to the Island a couple of times a year. I’d been under the illusion that most people are pretty good.”

“And now you think most people are pretty bad?”

I shook my head. “But people are a lot more mixed up than I thought they were. I thought most adults were like my parents and—yours. But they aren’t.”

“How come your father’s free to spend the summer on the Island?”

“Well—I just told you, the other doctor’s going to be in Thornhill till September. And Daddy’s working on a book,” I said to Leo.

“I thought he was a doctor, not a writer.”

“He is. It’s not a book-type book, it’s scientific. I wouldn’t understand a word of it.”

“Are you glad to be going back to Thornhill?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I just plain don’t know.”

~ A Ring of Endless Light, by Madeleine L’Engle ~

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Written by lobsterbird