pickup on mean street - 13. the hat

by bofa xesjum

part thirteen of 16

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when sophonisba awoke, mademoiselle duval - or the woman sophonisba had taken to be mademoiselle duval - was gone. so was the cup which had held the wine. there was no trace of the wine which sophonisba remembered spilling. and the candle was gone. the table was empty except for sophonisba’s face, which she lifted off the table to look around. the hut was empty. the chairs were gone, and the kettle and the tripod on which it stood. there was no sign of a fire on the fireplace, not even ashes. the door of the hut was slightly open. sunlight streamed through it, and through the single tiny window beside the door. i must have dreamed the whole thing, sophonisba surmised. what else, she thought, have i dreamed? did i dream the three rascals i encountered at the crossroads. and their story about soup and a pea and a something woman? did i dream the war, and the fall of the kingdom, and the sacking and burning of the castle, and the roads filled with soldiers and demons? it would be nice if all that were a dream. and if juiie, her faithful maid, were to suddenly appear with a pot of tea and some cream tarts. but neither the cream tarts, nor the tea, nor julie or any other maid appeared. sophonisba got up, stretched her sore arms and legs, and went back outside. the first thing she saw was a hat - an ordinary brown hat such as a peasant might wear to market - lying on the ground just outside the door. there was a piece of paper in the hat. she picked the piece of paper out of the hat. on the paper were written the words - wear this hat and good things might happen to you. she put the hat on. it fit perfectly and served to keep the sun out of her eyes. she got back up on to the road and began walking. next