Within the walls
The garden was not that big. It was not even a garden. It was some forgotten land that spread across the far eastern side of the mansion. There were some plants, none of which bloomed. The mosses and the dried up lake and the old, creaking swings gave it a rather ominous appearance. No one took much notice of the garden . No one except the gnome. The gnome with no-name. Gnomes are creature with an affinity toward earth. They thrive in gardens when the garden has a soul to it. If there isn’t any, the gnome would slowly wither away.
To the far east of the mansion, there was a steep , guttery , rough round that went a long way leading to the great woods. Every day the gnome would plan to make his travel to the woods. He didn’t just dream of the woods, he prepared for the journey. He collected early drew drops, keep them safe in his little jar, collected the nectar from the wild flowers , and prepared many leafy dresses to beat the chilly winds of the east.
The wall did not come up in a single day. It started out small. Bricks started to pile up beside the garden. Sand and cement came later. Then people. More people. And just like that , the wall rose up. One day, it wasn’t there. And then one day, it was there. The wall had brass gates that locked the garden from everything outside it. It locked away the gnome’s dreams of travelling to the woods. He woke up every day dreaming of wood, but with no way to get past the walls. But he never stopped collecting nectar, or dew drops or stitching his clothes.
Gnomes too get bad days, like humans. On his bad days, he thought about the girl. The little girl with her piggy tails who came to the garden in the wee hours of the mornings. The girl never liked it in the mansion. It was too dark and big, she used to say. “I will get out of here and build a cottage. You just wait and see” — She had told in that soft, yet determined voice of hers. They sat side by side and talked about their dreams. The girl told the gnomes of the places she had read about in her books, the houses from her books and the one she was planning to build. The gnome talked about the great woods, the heaven on earth for gnomes. He talked about the big and old trees, the mares and mosses, the moths and flies. That was years before. Years before the day the gnome realised that the garden was doing him no good. The day he realised that the garden was taking away the light in him.
Years passes and the girl grew up to a young woman and stopped visiting the garden. The girl had left the mansion and the garden behind. The gnome was happy for her. He was glad that she made it to her cottage. Only she didn’t. She was plucked away and planted in another mansion. It was dingy and dark and big. There was no gnome to talk to her, or to plan her cottages with. She believed that the gnome found his happy place in the woods. And she was happy for her friend.
The girl never stopped dreaming of her cottage. Just like the gnome.
