The Secret Garden
There is a version of this garden that most visitors never find. It exists in the quiet between pages, in the margins of maps, in the second glance you give to something you almost walked past.
You are here because you are the kind of person who looks twice. Who reads the footnotes. Who wonders what's behind the door that isn't on any blueprint.
That is, if I'm being honest, exactly the kind of reader I write for.
There is a version of this garden that you can only find after midnight, when the moon has gone behind the clouds and the fireflies have gone wherever fireflies go when they think no one is watching.
In that version, the flowers grow in colors that have no names. The paths lead somewhere different each time. The gate, which is usually locked, swings open at the touch of a curious hand.
The flowers here do not bloom on any schedule. They bloom when someone finally pays attention.
You have found this garden.
Welcome to the version that is only for those who look.
This page is not listed anywhere. You found it on your own.
Some things are better that way.