The Way There

Wrote this years ago--still like it.

If she stood in just the right place, she could see the tunnel. It was perfectly round, arching as high above as it dug below. Anyone else would have seen a bridge reflected in the waters of the lake, but when she stood just where she stood, she knew it was much more than that. And she would have gladly gone through the tunnel to discover the new world beyond it, but she knew, somehow, in order to do that she would have to walk on water.
She was still young. The world was strange and interesting, with unexpected dramas every hour of every day. She was certain, in such a strange world, that somewhere someone knew how to walk on water and would teach her. But she knew what Alice had gone through in Wonderland. She knew she might have the key and be the right size, but never at the same time, so she might never get through the door. "It may be years before I find someone who knows how to walk on water," she thought. "By then I might forget this tunnel is here." So she took the fancy blank book her sister had given her as a dream journal and wrote on the first page:
"The park has a tunnel to another world. You'll see it if you stand under the basswood tree. Walk on the lake. This message brought to you by you at ten years old."
Satisfied, she shut the book and gave it a new place of honor on her highest shelf.