A young girl walked through a forest as the sun began to consider its descent for the day. Its light slipped through the limbs of the trees, catching in places where the wild had been left to grow as it pleased.
She moved steadily through the foliage, brushing past clusters of blue iris and low-spilling creeping jenny that curled along the earth like it had nowhere else to be. The narrow leaves noticed her and whispered against her skin as a branch here and there grazed the thin fabric of her white nightgown. The damp ground still held the day’s warmth beneath her bare feet, even as the evening air began to cool.
Finally, she came upon the clearing. The one she had been searching for.
The pond sat quietly at its center, ringed by soft chaos. Cardinal flowers burned low and red near the water’s edge, and patches of water lettuce drifted lazily along the surface, breaking and reforming with the slightest movement.
She stepped forward and lowered herself to her knees at the edge of the pond. The greenery gathered close here, dense and unbothered, brushing against her arms as she leaned in. Small leaves and soft stems tickled her skin as her palms met the warm earth and caught her weight. She moved on all fours, inching closer.
There, she saw herself. Her reflection waited for her, still and unblinking. She closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the surface of the water began to shift. A slow, quiet swirl. The image softened, then changed.
Another face looked back at her. Lined with time, but unmistakable. Familiar in a way that made her heart stretch and ache. The girl’s breath caught as the face held her, steady and patient.
Tears gathered before she noticed them. Small ripples spread across the surface as they fell, distorting the image, pulling it apart and stitching it back together again. For a moment, it felt like they were becoming the same.
The Face in the Pond lips parted, just slightly, as if forming the beginning of a word.
The girl leaned closer.
The Face in the Pond’s mouth opened a bit wider.
The girl reached out, her fingers trembling as they touched the surface of the water. The contact sent a soft shiver through the pond.
The mouth opened again. Wider.
The girl moved forward, drawn by something she did not question. She only followed. She shifted her weight and tipped herself headfirst into the pond, disappearing into her mothers mouth.
The water stilled.
Above it, the sun finally gave in to its descent, its last light stretching across the surface in a quiet, fractured rainbow.
The Story Behind: The Face in the Pond