a small door

and while I was waiting...I noticed, to my left, a small door in the foot of a tree. It was blue, with a golden handle. I didn't think I would fit through it. As I pondered how to fold myself in order to get in, all kinds of wondrous cooking smells floated out through the wee key hole. Without further hesitation I leapt up, took hold of the handle and was through the door, before I could notice how.

It was very dark. I stood completely still. All the hairs of my body stood on end.

As I stood, my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I could make out a rickety wooden staircase going down in the very centre of the tree, deep into the earth, in a beautiful spirally way. I stepped toward the top stair and held the worn-smooth wooden rail in my left hand. The first step creaked, stopping me in fear that I may be heard and thought to be a rogue intruder. As I paused, a voice droned up from below, singing a low lilting chant that drew me down. The deeper I went the lighter it grew. It was the bright orange light of hearth fire and the yellow licking light of many candles.

With each step down, I grew younger. When finally, after what seemed to be forever, I stepped off the last step, to the next floor down, I was a girl of eight. My hair was short and straight and brown, cut in a blunt fringe above my eyebrows. I was wearing my old favourite loose brown corduroy pants and a pale blue crew neck jumper that my mother had knitted. This was not as surprising as who I was about to meet.