Mara had always believed that every journey carried a lesson, though she seldom knew what she was meant to learn until much later. On the morning the story begins, mist clung to the hills like a curtain refusing to yield to the rising sun. She set out anyway, following the narrow forest road that wound toward the coast. Her old truck hummed steadily, a sound she trusted more than most people.
Halfway down the slope, a deer burst from the brush, its eyes wide with panic. Mara slammed the brakes. The truck skidded, gravel spraying like sparks. It wasn’t quite an accident, but it came close enough to steal her breath. The deer vanished into the trees, leaving only silence behind. Mara sat still, gripping the wheel, listening to her pulse thump in her ears.
She could have turned back then. But something urged her on—a tug she couldn’t name. When she finally reached the beach, the tide was low, revealing a wide stretch of dark sand. The air smelled of salt and possibility.
Near the waterline, she spotted a small wooden box washed ashore, sealed with a rusted clasp. Curious, she opened it. Inside was a bundle of letters, their edges softened by time but their ink still legible. They told the story of two lovers separated by war, writing to each other with hope that outlasted distance.
Mara read every page, feeling the weight of someone else’s longing settle gently into her heart. She didn’t know who the letters belonged to or why they had drifted here, but she understood that they had survived storms far greater than hers.
As the sun burned through the last of the mist, Mara realized the day hadn’t threatened her path—it had redirected it. And for once, she was ready to follow.
Therapy Bits 
Talk to me! I love comments!