Read part 1 here
Over the hill, the road slowly changed from dirt to cobblestones. It was still surrounded by grass and flowers, but the flowers were more numerous and varied. With more flowers, came more hills. She turned around quickly and could longer see anything past the hill even though they had come so far. The shadows in the distance had been blocked by the hill, and only grass loomed into the distance.
As the woman and her companion got closer she could see the new set of hills were much smaller than the one they had climbed. They only stood about 10 feet high and fairly close together. There were too many to count. They were shaped like domes, like grassy igloos. Each had its own circular oak door facing the road and windows that popped out on every side. Luke brought her to one of the doors and sat thumping his tail on the cobblestones. The woman’s brows furrowed once more, a position they seemed to favor lately, and Luke cocked his head to one side. He pushed on her hand with his nose, reminding her of the paper she had been holding there. She checked the paper again. 100 M Avenue. The same address was scrawled in tiny words on the cobblestones lining the edge of the house. This was finally it then, her new home. She gasped as the paper seemed to start burning at the edges, slowly moving to the center before it completely disintegrated. The pieces were taken away by the wind and scattered beneath her feet, fading into the stones.
The stones in front of the house had flowers coming out through the cracks. The trail of flowers continued out onto the sides of the walkway, then continued to go up the curves of the little domed house through the grasses that covered it. There were vibrant roses, daisies, lilies, and more. Some she couldn’t even name, an oddity for her who had spent so many years in her garden. The flowers were more beautiful than she had ever seen. It must’ve been the colors, she decided. Everything here seemed more vibrant, the sky, the grasses, the flowers. Now that the woman had finally stopped walking, she realized, it really was a breathtaking sight.
She went to open the door but hesitated and took a moment to pick a few of the flowers that stood out to her. She shifted her flowers and bag to her right hand and grabbed the round wooden doorknob with the other. The flowers shook slightly in rhythm with her nervous hands and chose to look around for a few seconds more. All of the other little hill houses around her had the same broken cobblestone path leading up to the same round door. But not all of them had flowers, and none of them had nearly as many flowers as her’s did. She was proud of her little garden and thought of all the wonderful things she could do with it. Though they were beautiful, they could certainly use some arranging. And perhaps she could help out her neighbors. Why do only I have such a beautiful garden? She thought with a sigh. They have certainly had more time than I have, I just got here! Unless that’s the problem.
The presence of flowers weren’t the sole defining feature of the homes. Every house had another individual token; the keystones at the peak of each door were marked. Her’s read ‘Nancy Robinson’. That’s my name! She remembered as her eyes widened and covered her mouth in surprise. How could she forget such a thing? She thought about that for a minute. Nancy had even forgotten on her whole journey here where she was going and who she was, yet it never dawned on her. Perhaps it was a good thing she did not continue walking straight ahead at the crossroads. Would I have ever remembered? Or continued to wonder? She questioned. Had Luke not appeared to guide Nancy in the right direction, she may have never arrived here. This whole thing would be harder than she thought. Cautiously, she read the numbers next to her name, recalling their meaning. 1944-1994.