Writing, day 4

an excerpt:

Epistolary to the Woman Across a Continent

Dear Eula,

You should know that we do not know each other. Perhaps you know it. Still, I am writing with the best wishes for your well-being. I am well.

I am writing because I want to know if you believe in fate. I need to know this. Often, I find myself sure of this idea that we are locked in life like a maze and there is only one correct path, despite the allusion that we have choices.

Allow me to explain. Once, my sister and I were riding in my grandfather’s green station wagon. He had picked us up from our house so we could spend the weekend with him. It was one of my favorite things to do. Anyways, we were riding in the car and I noticed that we were not taking any of the routes I’d known to get to the cul-de-sac on which my grandparents lived. I inquired our destination from the back seat. My sister, older and up front, said nothing – seemingly annoyed she’d spend another weekend on my grandparent’s couch.

I asked why we were going this way, and my grandfather said something to the effect of there being multiple ways to skin a squirrel (maybe I’ll tell you one of the ways I know in my next letter), and that all roads lead home. My sister told him she was familiar with this route, and that he was going the wrong way. Imagine that: two girls having never held the steering wheel of anything giving directions. We reached a stop sign and my grandfather acquiesced – she said fine, which way should I go? We’d look left, look right, and chose a path. He listened. We’d hit several dead ends and would have to turn around, return to the point we went astray. He’d go back to the last turn, and we’d choose another path.

I don’t remember how long this went one or if we finally found our way on our own, or if Grandpa gave up on the game we were playing and just drove us to this house. It was kind of like that maze I mentioned, like life, wouldn’t you agree? We think we should go one way and we do and then we reach the dead end and either choose to cast down our reigns and give up or we turn back.