Before you leave your home behind, write a note, not explaining the where or why, but merely saying, “Goodbye.” If you feel that this is far too blunt, write that adventure has stolen your heart.

Be gone.

Head over the hills where the gossipers dwell. They claim to keep secrets, but tell them instead. Close your mouth and cover your ears, so that none of their words may touch virgin ears.

Tiptoe over the bridge. Do not make a sound. It is here that trolls make their rounds.

Over the valley, across three streams, at the edge of the forest of the unknown and unseen, lies a door.

You won’t see it at first, since you’ll look with your eyes.

Close them at once. Open your mind.

Remember your manners. Remember to knock, and you may find this door left unlocked.

You open this door just like any other, except take a breath. You may not have another.

The door will open without a squeak, leading to a corridor, slim and meek.

Stop.

Before you take another step. Forget every word that you’ve read, heard, or said. This is your journey. You’ll make your own words. You’ll tell your own story by the time you return.

With every step, you’ll want to turn back.

Don’t waiver. You have a goal. Don’t forget.

The hallway will narrow, the roof will slim, and the air with sour. Still, be straight as an arrow.

Finally, when this path comes to an end, pass through the veil, and enter where the dwarves live.

Don’t ask any questions. Soon you’ll be offered a plate and a seat.

Take both. Eat your fill. Don’t touch the roast beef.

Share small talk with the dwarves as you eat, and soon, they will offer you a place to sleep.

As you lie awake in your bed, close your eyes but keep your head. As your hosts snore, sneak out the front door. Take the shilling by the sink, borrow nothing more.

By now, it is surely some late hour, the moon will be high and the wolves will howl.

Follow their call.

Up a small mountain, it will be an arduous climb. Let the moon guide you, and you’ll find your sight.

Soon, you’ll come upon a pack of wolves.

Hide. Give them no salutations or sample of your goods.

Wait until the sun has taken the sky and you will find people where you once saw wolves lie.

Seek out your brother among them, in soul and in heart. With this bond found, persuade him to depart.

Let him lead, as he has a sharp nose and knows the way. Remember to collect any seeds you find as you make your way.

Journey for days, and journey for nights. Journey through villages and towns filled with fright.

Eat when food is put before you. Sleep with a bed is offered. Remember to breathe. Believe in the kindness of strangers, but do not let yourselves be deceived.

If you come to a gypsy, covered in red, pink, and white, lean you ear close to her lips as she sleeps at night. You may find some sound advice.

If she happens to wake as you spy, give your shilling, and she’ll tell you everything within her sight.

You and your friend must go in the direction she points, and soon, brittle earth and your feet shall unite. Plant your seed here and wait three days for them to grow. Collect the fruits and carry them close.

In the next town you cross, trade some meat for a peach. Sell half of the rest and give yourselves a feast.

Leave your brother behind. He’s too tired of travel and has sore feet.

Do not cry at your parting. Just give him a hug and head in the path where everything black and lacks any love.

Though it may be painful, open your heart. Just as you did when you opened the door at the start.

Buy a flute from the traveling merchant, but watch his son for his hands are known to fall into pocket of anyone.

Practice this flute until its melody is elite and true.

One day, as you give it a toot, you may find some fairies join in on your tune.

Follow them. Into the darkest forest, let their glow guide. Play them your sweetest song, and they will reward you with a human-child.

Take her.

When she cries, dry her tears. When she’s scared, cast away her fears. Feed her when she’s hungry. Smile when she laughs. Carry her along.

Protect her.

Wonder around according to her whims.

You’ll cross over hill, dale, and stream, until you find a cottage alone in a valley, perfect like a dream. When you knock, a man and woman will answer.

Give them back their daughter.

Open your heart wider, and let it guide you home. Walk until you have seen growing things of every hue. Refine your tale and gather your words as you do.

By and by, you’ll find yourself back where the dwarves dwell. Don’t enter. Wait until nightfall, when they snore and sleep has fallen.

Sit a shilling by the sink and head through the back. Snake through the corridor, and widen the door. Tiptoe over the bridge. Button your lips, and cover your ears.

Your home will be before you–smaller than you left it.

When you open the door do not say, “Hello,” but begin with a “Once upon a time,” as now you have a story of your own.