Chapter Nineteen: Miniature Village

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Once Stacy and Benjamin were at the top of the trail, they were met with a sturdy mini-mountain of boulders. Benjamin easily jumped up the first rock and held his hand out. This time, Stacy took it without protest. With some dragging, scurrying and moments of close-contact, the two made it to the peak of the pile; the rewards were completely worthwhile.

Below the mountain lay their own sleepy town of Caribou next to a larger village next door. Between the two, stretched a shimmering river and lurking behind it all was the clear-blue lake, dotted with afternoon fishing boats and striped with ant-sized canoes.

"Wow," Stacy breathed. Benjamin looked at her and smiled.

"Met your muse yet?" he asked, "This is where I met mine."

"How did you do it?" she asked, "Get inspired to start something brand new?"

"I looked at the towns. In every little window I pictured unique characters with lives all their own, each one just as important as the last," he said.

"Introduce me," she said eagerly, "to your favorite ones." Benjamin reached in front of her and pointed to a small steepled church with a gingerbread colored parsonage connected.

"That right there is where the Jessica Anderson lives. She's a small-town pastor's daughter with a knack for getting into trouble. Never too big of trouble, mind you, but just enough to keep her parents on their feet," he said. As if by magic, a small young speck of a woman walked out onto the church step as he spoke, "Every day right around this time she sits out on the stoop of the church, waits for a car to pull up and runs into it. It's a different car every week. She's very popular with the local boys, but truth be told she's quite a tease." Stacy smiled as a red blip of a car pulled up and young "Jessica" scurried inside.

"I like Jessica," she said, staring into Benjamin's eyes for a second too long. She compensated by grabbing his hand and pointing it out to the distance, "Now tell me who lives in that creepy gray house on the hill."

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