The Grace Year

by Kim Liggett

Life can be cruel. No one is immune to that, no matter how good you are.

I did the best I could with what I’d been given. I stuck to my beliefs. I survived against all odds. I fell in love and gave my heart freely, knowing that it would be broken. I can’t regret the choices I’ve made, and so I must accept them. As I tuck the thyme flower into the top of my chemise, I hear something behind me.

That’s the problem with letting the light in—after it’s been taken away from you, it feels even darker than it was before.

In this dark wood, in this cursed place, we’ve found a bit of grace.

From death there is life.

“Your eyes are wide open, but you see nothing,”

“There’s a place inside us where they can’t reach us, they can’t see. What burns in you burns in all of us.”

The magic is real. Maybe not in the way they believe, but if you’re willing to open your eyes, open your heart, it’s all around us, inside us, waiting to be recognized.