Fiction

Some time ago, I had a dream about a faraway place—one that no one knew existed. It wasn’t just beautiful… it was bewitching. The kind of place that makes you pause, breathe a little deeper, and wonder if you’ve somehow stepped into a secret meant only for you.

The trees were unlike anything I had ever seen. Some were green, yes—but others shimmered in blues, deep reds, and colors I don’t even have names for. Flowers swayed gently, almost as if they were alive in a different way… as if they might lean in close and whisper hello.

And in the middle of it all, in a quiet opening among the trees, stood a chair.

Not just any chair.

A tall, golden chair—ornate and glowing, as though it held stories within its very frame. It was encrusted with jewels that caught the light and scattered it into tiny rainbows across the ground. Flowers wrapped themselves around its legs and arms, blooming as if they belonged there.

It felt… alive.

It felt like it was waiting.

For me.

I don’t remember deciding to walk toward it, but I did. Slowly. Carefully. As if I didn’t want to disturb the magic of the place. The closer I got, the more I noticed a soft, beautiful scent—roses. At first, it was faint, like a memory. But with each step, it grew stronger, warmer, more comforting.

By the time I reached the chair, the scent surrounded me completely.

And then… it spoke.

Not in a voice you hear with your ears, but one you feel deep inside your heart.

Sit down, it whispered.

So I did.

The moment I settled into the chair, something extraordinary happened. Its arms moved—gently at first, then more firmly—wrapping around me in a warm, protective embrace. It held me tightly, like it knew exactly how much I needed to be held.

The scent of roses deepened, and in that moment, I felt something I can only describe as pure love. Not the kind that comes and goes, not the kind that depends on anything… but a steady, unwavering love that simply was.

And then, the chair spoke again.

“You are stronger than you think. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Simple words. But they landed deep.

When I woke, I didn’t feel like I had just had a dream. I felt like I had been given something. A reminder. A truth I may have forgotten somewhere along the way.

I wanted so badly to go back—to find that place again, to sit in that chair and hear what else it might say. But even though I never returned in quite the same way, the feeling stayed with me.

And the message?

It stayed even longer.

Over the years, I’ve thought about that chair more times than I can count. Sometimes I wonder if I dreamed it again, or if I simply revisited it in my thoughts. Either way, it never lost its meaning.

That chair gave me courage when I didn’t think I had any.

It reminded me that the voices telling us we can’t, shouldn’t, or won’t succeed… often come from people who haven’t yet found their own strength. People who, perhaps, need that chair just as much as I did.

Maybe we all do.

And maybe that chair isn’t as far away as it seemed.

Maybe it lives somewhere inside each of us… waiting patiently, wrapped in quiet strength and unconditional love, ready to remind us—

We are stronger than we think.

What would the chair say to you?

Eydie