“She placed a hand over each of our chests and told us our beats were rare because our love was pure, free to thrum a rhythm all its own. Called it our very own forever melody. Our hearts hum in time with the cadence of life flowing through our veins. See, the hearts are where our souls live, the thrumming crux so crucial it overshadows all others.” I stare down at my pinky finger, bending it slowly. “This little finger appears so insignificant in comparison, but in reality, it guides us down our fated paths. Most people fight it, stumbling through their entire lives uncaring of the tiny vein that runs directly from our heart, down our left arm, and continues through our hand to the tip of the teensy digit. That fierce little stream continues on, though we cannot see it, as a thin red thread linking us to every soul we’re destined to touch. It pulls through tangles and snares, it’s tenacity unbreakable. No matter how hard you try, your thread is impossible to ignore. No matter the detour, that thread will eventually tug us back on the right path to leave our mark on everyone it ties us to. Our influence isn’t always life-altering. Some lives we briefly pass through, but in others, we may find our homes. ‘You can’t fight fate,’ she whispered with a sad smile, linking our pinkies together. ‘Your thread brought us together tonight because your souls needed a kind heart. Cling tightly to moments like these, and look for the gentle souls hidden among the cruel. The path ahead of you is hard, little ones, but you are stronger than you can imagine. Trust your hearts, and follow your thread. Someday, fate will lead you home.’ And then, she slipped back inside.”
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