The afternoon sun painted golden streaks across the living room floor when the doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting anyone. Opening the door, I froze. Standing there was a woman draped in flowing white robes, the edges embroidered with delicate gold patterns. Her face was serene, framed by dark hair tucked neatly beneath a silk veil. Deep brown eyes met mine — calm, yet holding a quiet wisdom. "Peace be upon this home," she said, her voice soft but steady. I blinked, unsure how to respond. "Uh… can I help you?" She smiled, the kind of smile that made the air feel lighter. "I was passing through and felt… drawn here. May I come in?" Against all logic, I stepped aside. Inside, she walked slowly, her fingers brushing the spines of books on my shelf. There was something about her — not quite intimidating, but… powerful. Like she carried centuries of stories in her heart. "You've been carrying something heavy," she murmured, not looking at me. I swallowed hard. How could she know? She turned, eyes warm but piercing. "Would you like to let it go?" My throat tightened. For a second, I considered denying it. But under her gaze, the walls I'd built inside me cracked. I nodded slowly. The priestess stepped closer, so close I caught the faint scent of lavender. She raised her hand, fingers brushing my forehead with the lightest touch. In that moment — I don't know how to explain it — the weight I'd been carrying for years simply… dissolved. By the time I opened my eyes, she was already walking toward the door. "Wait—who are you?" I asked, heart pounding. She glanced back, smile still playing at her lips. "Just someone who listens." And then she was gone, leaving behind only the scent of lavender and the strange, unshakable feeling that my life had just shifted — though I might never know why.

peace be upon you