Through the silver lined clouds in the midnight sky hung the glimmery moon, glued to the velvet of its November home. In the quiet of the night, a red haired woman with her robe flowing behind her, billowing above the ground and grass, walked past the trees in the garden behind the sleeping mansion. She was barefoot but not cold. She had been far colder before than this night. Staring up through the trees she caught a glimpse of the night bats, flying in throngs past the lofty pines. It reminded her of her life as the Phoenix, as a spirit with wings but two souls. After five years, she finally had the Phoenix under control; finally she had her life back; finally she was home. Things had changed so much after so many years. Her husband had re-married and his wife had bore him a son. Yesterday she encountered the two, walking right in this same pathway, holding hands. He was walking with this woman, but in the quickest glance between him and her, she could see his heart was still and always had been with her. Memories shared between the two were bonded together with the love they had for one another. Reflections changed. The mansion was looking older; the faces of her friends and colleagues were aging. Time hadn't escaped anyone in those five years yet they seemed to have passed in an instant. The young ones were older; the old ones were wiser. And yet, amidst the truth circling every inch of this place and in these people, she didn't feel any older, any wiser or really any different. She had just come home.
