Sunset
Meadow
It was dark.
The air was still, cold and bit into her face. She walked through the wood that she had walked through so many times before, casually brushing away thorns and twigs like she had been through them thousands of times, Supposing she pretty much had. She could no longer feel the familiar path under her feet. Shivering, she continued, knowing that she would soon reach a clearing. Finally, feeling the soft, relieving breeze on her face and the grass underneath her, she sighed. Though it was pitch black and she knew her way around, she felt uneasy. She shivered, but felt at ease seeing the light in the distance.
The meadow was close.
She climbed a steep hill leading to the vast expanse of meadows and grass, almost melodically swayed by the whispering breeze around her. She walked silently for the next few minutes, listening to the sound of her footsteps on the ground and her heartbeat, quickening as she approached the bench she recognised oh so well, and remembered as a child. Sometimes weeping, sometimes watching the sunset in silence, admiring the beauty of everything that was, she would sit there for hours. She missed those days, but now she was back. Now she was back where she belonged, where she was accepted. And she was never going back.
All of a sudden, as all the overwhelming familiarities, everything she remembered and loved as a child were returning to her, a hand was on her shoulder.
She turned, and smiled.
The air was still, cold and bit into her face. She walked through the wood that she had walked through so many times before, casually brushing away thorns and twigs like she had been through them thousands of times, Supposing she pretty much had. She could no longer feel the familiar path under her feet. Shivering, she continued, knowing that she would soon reach a clearing. Finally, feeling the soft, relieving breeze on her face and the grass underneath her, she sighed. Though it was pitch black and she knew her way around, she felt uneasy. She shivered, but felt at ease seeing the light in the distance.
The meadow was close.
She climbed a steep hill leading to the vast expanse of meadows and grass, almost melodically swayed by the whispering breeze around her. She walked silently for the next few minutes, listening to the sound of her footsteps on the ground and her heartbeat, quickening as she approached the bench she recognised oh so well, and remembered as a child. Sometimes weeping, sometimes watching the sunset in silence, admiring the beauty of everything that was, she would sit there for hours. She missed those days, but now she was back. Now she was back where she belonged, where she was accepted. And she was never going back.
All of a sudden, as all the overwhelming familiarities, everything she remembered and loved as a child were returning to her, a hand was on her shoulder.
She turned, and smiled.