“Time is an illusion of perspective,” said Papa, his holographic image, white tunic and silver hair, glowing brightly from the inside of the folio. “I can only imagine how this last year must have flown by, whipped and driven by the inclement winds of uncertainty. And, I can only imagine how you have grown in the fertile soil of adversity. I miss you more than these words can convey and can only marvel at the leader you have become. With this journal, I officially pass the baton. You are a special one my dear. I feel privileged to have walked by your side on the beaches of Valla. All my love to you my dear sweetest one. Carry on.” The image gently faded.

Through misty eyes Kyra closed the folio and ran her hands over the gem encrusted cover; the central gold and blue shell, the crown jewel from Papa’s own personal collection. Papa had handed her the folio on the dock, a gift locked for one year. She had trouble sleeping last night knowing today was the day—one year from that moment on the dock, from that last goodbye. The precious folio had served its sentence. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to find, which only made the anticipation all the more intense. That Papa had given her his personal journal, what amounted to his autobiography, was like the gift of a guiding star to one lost at sea.

“Dear Kyra, are you okay,” asked Goldie.

“Yes, yes,” answered Kyra, her smile like the sun shinning in the midst of a afternoon shower. “So good to see Papa again wasn’t it? Who would have thought.” Kyra stood and walked to her window. Standing before the massive pane she looked into the cosmos and clutched the folio tightly to her chest. “I love you too Papa. I do.”

Commentary: The Folio

Categories: Story, Kyra, Papa, The Folio, Goldie

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