The Green Man called to her beyond the door, “Come child, we are waiting.”
Nora was no child. She was eighty years old, old enough to be a grandmother twice over. Ah, but the words sparked a joy deep inside of her and suddenly she felt young again. The last time she had walked through that door was sixty years ago, but Nora would never forget what was beyond the archway.
Slippers were useless in the snow, but she would keep the dress, yes, she would keep the dress. Nora pulled her hooded cloak down from the knob beside the door and sunk her feet into her heavy boots.
“I’d marry him again,” she muttered, sounding addled to the man in the living room sitting in the rocking chair.
Read the rest of the story at: The Stairway – Photo prompt challenge | Not Tomatoes