DARKNESS 25
My dream-self’s laughter is infectious as she runs across grass, her face aglow with joy. She appears not to be attempting escape from the man following, but merely to entice. The grass swaying around her feet glistens with droplets of dew, creating crystallised prisms as they refract the energy of the full moon. Branches, beneath which she darts, dip and bow against the pressure of the wind.
Her dress and waist-length hair billow out, as she turns to glance over her shoulder. Seeing her pursuer falling behind, she veers around the trunk of a silver birch, her hands sweeping across the bark. With a final glance at him, she continues back onto her path, a lesser distance between. An illuminate glow highlights her cheeks, but it does not appear to be from exertion. Her exciteme
