Friday, August 15, 2003
She's standing on top of a hill.
There's mist surrounding her, shrouding the ground from sight. Only because she feels the earth beneath her does she know it's there. Where she came from, she tries not to remember, though the memories are close by, a haunting away. To turn back would be suicide so forward becomes the only choice, and she wants it so desperately. But where is he? She hears his voice but is it only a memory recalled to comfort her? So unsure of herself, frozen by resolve not to take a wrong step. His name escapes her lips, immediately swallowed by the thick air. But then a movement, just a flash. It is enough for her. He is ahead, somewhere. She moves forward, down. It is harder, this descent, than was the climb. Steps are careful, thought behind each motion. There will not be a fall - only the promise of level ground. The promise of him. The dirt she feels is solid, ungiving. It is her guide. This will be tiring. This will be far. But it will be.