They Found Me In Your Corridor
They didn’t realize that I was missing until the silence of my not talking hit them. 7 years old, small in stature and missing within the vast Vatican Museum. A child not scared of strangers and comfortable in the space. Any parents would panic, but my father knew me better than he knew himself and backtracked to where he thought he’d find me, and the guard followed his lead.
They found me in your corridor staring into your weather worn stone face, listening intently. They watched me as the light from the window behind me granted a glowing outline of my figure, a tiny little human standing before a long line of Egyptian statues. I nodded and laughed, uttered a quick “Okay” and turned to join my Daddy in the doorway without looking back. I never talked about it, and I couldn’t tell you now what was said.
I never did it again. But after that they found I had fallen in love with cats.