I wandered away from the others. I wanted to smile at things on my own. I took time to notice the lichen and the weird fungi, the horsetail ferns and the flowers I can’t name. A strange wee bird is following me. I think he’s a robin, although his breast isn’t yet red. I have a question for him.
If a Robin is really somebody’s soul, then who are you?
What have you come to tell me, and why now?
He sat on the bench beside me and said, here I am. The rest you already know.