The Blooms of Perennial Wisdom: Chapter 5

The manor was not the most pleasant of places to be alone in.

Theodore was slightly rocking, silent on the chair. Outside, in the absence of wind, the rain was falling vertically along the surfaces and it sounded so orchestrated, so even, like a sequence of notes repeating over and over. Lost inside a reverie of new-found realizations, shades of mystery and dread emerged to darken his mind. Like pieces in a dreamed-of puzzle the memories came together, creating menacing, strangely familiar shapes.

He remembered now; the man at the bar.
What he had said.

The Intermediates

This is the place where all the important things happen.

So they told me at least.

I didn't argue.

I've been coming here for years, but it didn't get any easier with time.

We were given a space to be and a seat to sit. Next to each other and still invisible to all but ourselves.