The devil and me.

First move.

The devil comes to her and all at once where she is changes. They walk together in a lush green garden. The grass is the longed for green of summer. Flowers are opening up everywhere, their scent thick in the air. Hanging catching the breeze are crystal wind chimes. They make such a lovely delicate sound.

The chimes are like prisms, reflecting light into myriad colors. After so long in the unchanging landscape she been in, it's all a little hard to take in. The colors, the sounds, the lights.

She feels mesmerized by the reflections. The devil is quiet, watching her taking in everything around her. There is something, something nudges her memory. Light, glass, pain. Bad pain, searing pain. She reels from the disjointed memory. It slips away the memory slippy as a fish.

She shakes her head, but the memory will not come back fully. The memory of pain shocks her, acute sharp. She has no memory of the cause of the pain. Perhaps she is remembering death.

She reels away from the chimes, looks back towards the flowers. 'This place is purely my creation', he said. 'If you like it, I will keep it here as your place to go', he finished. She did like it here, even though something about the place unsettled her. It called to a hidden memory, something she would rather not revisit. She nodded that she would like to be able to walk here. The devil looked pleased.