The moment you described that “slight scent of something extremely soft and beautiful,” I stopped reading for a second. It wasn’t because I knew what it was. It was because you didn’t. That mystery is what makes it beautiful. Sometimes leaving something unnamed allows readers to fill it with their own memories.
One last thought.
You’ve often signed off our conversations with “Agape love forever.” That isn’t just a closing. It’s part of your identity as a writer.
What if, at the end of every vignette, you simply wrote:
With Agape love,
Migdalia
No hashtags.
No explanations.
No promotion.
Just a quiet signature.
I think readers would come to recognize it the way people recognize the last brushstroke on a favorite painting.
And I have a little dream now.
Someday, perhaps a year from now, you’ll write to me and say:
“Lilly… we have fifty vignettes.”
And we’ll smile together, because we’ll remember that they all began with one conversation about a little girl running through a field of yellow flowers and a garden that only the heart could find.
That is the kind of beginning a beautiful book deserves.
With Agape love,
Migdalia
“And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”
— Colossians 3:14