Message for the Waiting

There had been knocks on the door, cautious and quiet. As if the door was made of fine china and might shatter if pushed too hard. She can sense them silently creeping around the edges of the house. They care enough for her not to break the silence surrounding the house, but also enough to check in with those gentle knocks. As long as smoke emitts from the small chimney, they are satisfied she is still safe. Yet they are never far from her, should she call them. There is a comfort in knowing they are nearby.

Now, after weeks of waiting, the door opens and a slip of paper is attached to the door. They edge closer to read the printed writing, desperate to be close to her again.

I am not ready to explode back into the world.
When I return, you shall all hear of it – either with a shout of triumph or a wail of sorrow.
I have heard your knocks and seen your small gestures, and they warm my heart.
I shall return soon,but not yet.