“We’re here, get out.” Viloria pulls off the road near the edge of a large bank of trees and parks. She engages a lever to open the trunk and I grab my bag before meeting her at the back of the car. While the backseat is packed full, the trunk is bare except for her bag and a small two-man tent. I help her grab the stuff and we head away, toward the treeline.

“We are camping in or beside the small forest?”

“Say a beast showed up in the night to eat us, would you rather make a break across an open field or have a multitude of places to hide?” Viloria hoists her bag over her shoulder and repositions her end of the tent against her hip.

“Are we playing ‘Choose your own mortality’?”

She laughs as we enter the trees in search of a clearing. Problem is, finding much of anything in the dark would be next to impossible. Viloria drops the tent, then kneels down to rummage through her bag.

“I am not unprepared.” She pulls out a small lantern that is brighter than it looks. The light reaches out ahead of us for at least seven feet on all sides - thus illuminating the shadows and casting out their demons as we resume our march. It isn’t really long, but feels like forever till we find a small clearing to pitch our tent. The ground is trampled in the area and a stone circle remains, suggesting that we aren’t the first modern pioneers to choose this spot for our brief, but ceremonious, exit from the grid. Viloria is quick to drop her things and urges me to help her settle us in, “C’mon, this will do. Soon as we get our tent up, we can work on the fire.”

“Can we pass up the spooky campfire stories tonight?” I remove the tent from its canvas bag and we both pull against one another to straighten it out along the ground. Thankfully, it isn’t one of the older fashioned tents, with a million pipes. This one is up in a matter of minutes once we find the poles and fasten them within their rests. Then, we both step back and admire our work - as if the tent were bought from a Swedish furniture company. Never hurts to boost your confidence; at every opportunity. “Let’s sleep.” I unzip the door and slip one foot inside before Viloria is pulling me back by the waist of my expensive pants.

“Sleep. Listen to you. Where is your thirst for adventure? We came to find your muse! Let’s build a fire.” I turn around and put on my best frown, but she is already heading for the trees to gather sticks. So, what’s a man to do but resign himself to a lady’s request? I hate to ruin such an impromptu not-my-idea trip. But, I’d also hate for the mountain lions to find us here in the dark.

“Aye aye, Cap’n.”

We gather a small pile of sticks and stare at it - just as we had done with the tent - only this time it’s because neither of us really knows what to do next. Luckily, I remember a lighter that I had stashed away and I pull it from my pocket to bend down to ignite the kindling. “I’ll ignore the fact that you are cheating, but what’s this?” The twigs light before me and I stand, turning to find Viloria with an envelope in her hand. The same one from earlier, which must have fallen from my pocket.

“Nothing. May I have it?” I hold out my hand hoping she has enough sense to oblige. But, watch helplessly as she breaks the seal and opens the envelope to reveal a thick stack of bills; The you-can-buy-anything-with bills. But, also, the my-parents-pay-all-of-my-bills bills. I cringe as she raises her eyes to me. Not that I haven’t ever planned to tell her. That thought might have occurred once or twice in the last seven years, and more recently at the pizza parlor. This is the reason I’ve got to prepare for the gallery. If I don’t, no more envelopes. I’ve been warned. By now, I’m supposed to be some great artist; successful, accomplished, prosperous. When - in reality - I am fruitless, useless, doomed, and my parents are losing their patience.

“It’s money, Vin. A lot of it. Where did you get this?”

Now would be a great time to tell her the truth. But, instead, I settle for a lie - and not a very good one, “Drugs.”

She purses her lips and crosses her arms.

“Stock market? Pyramid scheme? Black market?” I sigh when all of my lucrative options run dry, “It’s from my parents, ok?” I don’t know why I suddenly feel as though the cat is out of the bag. For all she knows it could be just this once, but I know Viloria better than that. I know she knows now, but I can’t judge how she feels till she hands me the envelope with pity in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What? It’s an early birthday gift.”

"Cut the crap, Vin. I’m no fool. You haven’t touched a brush in forever. Hell, you hardly leave your couch.” She seats herself in front of the fire and stares into its flames. We’ve reached one of those moments when I have to decide whether I spill the beans or simply allow her to fill in the blanks. And ultimately, I say nothing. After all this time, my silence never fails to speak volumes. I sat beside Viloria and let her head fall to my shoulder. “We should’ve went for lobster.”

I let out a small laugh, “What?”

“There’s a larger budget in that small envelope for more than just a crappy pizza. We could’ve bought that place and burned the oily lacquered tables for warmth.” She smiles, then kisses me as I toss another stick on the fire - allowing it to represent the elimination of the guilt I felt for years over my dependence.

“Now that we’re settled, is there any ancient wisdom you’d like to share? We’ve got the fire, the ambience of the night insects, and the unnerving statistics, which all point to there being a bear or starvation on our distant horizons.”

Viloria smiles at my wit, or what I perceive to be, at least, “Well...I suppose with those odds, we shouldn’t waste time. I’ve got an idea to start. I’ll be right back.”

“What?” I watch her walk away and consider following but the moment I leave the reach of the fire’s illumination, my feet stop and I settle for calling out, “Vil? Where did you go? C’mon. Don’t leave me for the bears.” I stare into the darkness of the trees for what seems like forever before the sound of her footsteps crunch over the litter on the tiny forest’s floor.

“Don’t shout! Bears love the sound of fear.” She laughs and presses a deck of cards into my chest.

“Witchcraft? Here? In the woods?” My eyes narrow, in a feigned expression of suspicion, “Have I also been obligated to dance naked under the moonlight?”

Viloria takes my words for what they are - a jest - and backs me up toward the fire. “Just sit. This helps whenever I need guidance, so...why not?” I seat myself close enough to the fire for it to illuminate the cards as she places them before me, but far enough away so as to avoid the sting of the embers that are thrown from the kindling. My girlfriend takes a seat across from me, “Shuffle and cut the cards. You’ll need three for this reading.”

The cards are thick and don’t shuffle quite like an average deck might, but I manage to do as she says - laying out three cards between us. Viloria reaches down and takes the first card, flipping it over to reveal the image of a man hanging by his feet from a branch. The second she flips depicts a man and a woman standing nude beneath an angel, followed by the last card of a wheel. With each successive card, Viloria raises her eyes to mine. “I’m seeing a destiny fallen before you - indicated by the reversed Wheel of Fortune card. It is nothing you sought out, but instead something you were unlucky to find - this is seen in the Lovers card that is paired with the reversed Hanged Man, meaning this situation will result in a relationship that is toxic or abusive in nature if you are unable to let it go.”

I frown and catch her eyes, then raise a brow, “Is this supposed to help me find my muse?”

“It’s to help you muse. To figure out what stands in your way, as a boundary or opportunity. Let’s pull them again.” She picks up the cards and reshuffles the deck, then holds it out for me to pick another three. I lay each card like I had done before, between us. Viloria lays the deck beside her and turns the first card. It is again the image of a wheel - reversed. The second card, my heart knows before my eyes behold the two naked figures. My girlfriend hesitates with her hand on the third card as if there is really no need to turn it. A number of breaths pass between us before the card is revealed, then a silence falls as the exact same trio looks up at us.

“Coincidence.” I’m confident in saying so.

“Or...we’ve found what’s holding you back.”

“C’mon, It’s not an exact science, Vil.” I pick up each card and hand them to her. She adds them to the deck and stands, walking over to tuck them away in her bag, lying just inside the tent. I turn to look into the fire that has died considerably since I lit it. “So, now can we sleep?”

Viloria zips up the tent and returns, adding another stick to the flames before sitting down. “Why so Hell bent on sleep? Why can’t we just enjoy the symphony?”

“What if I’m successful?” My eyes are trained on the flicker of the flames, feeling the way their heat dances on my face.

“What do you mean? Shouldn’t you be more concerned about if you’re not successful?”

Sure, most people would be. But, success raises the bar. That means no more free time. No more leisure to lie about and hibernate. “Don’t you think things would change?”

“Well sure!” There must be some expression on my face that makes her add, “Wait...do you mean between us?”

I had considered it. “Do you think they would?”

“We’d have money. We could buy a house together! We could run away, or travel!” The possibilities sparkle in her eyes. But, I’ve never imagined her with me. All of those things imagined, she was never there. Success would make me question us. Failure may be the only glue we have. But, I won’t tell her that either. Seven years was enough time to bury the hatchet and make peace with our mediocrity.

“First things first, then, I guess.” The fire spits and crackles in the silence that falls. I may not find my muse out here, but I am definitely musing, and not on good things.

Some time passes before the fire begins to die and Viloria finally stands, making a move toward the tent. “C’mon, let’s get that sleep.”

I throw some dirt on the fire and follow my girlfriend into the small space where our blankets are spread out in a neat rectangle. There are no mattresses or cots, we have to sleep on the lumpy ground, and if that’s not bad enough, I’m close to six foot so I have to crawl on my hands and knees to get inside. If it weren’t for insects, I’d prefer to sleep under the open sky. “Oh, the modern comforts I do so enjoy at home.”

“You mean you don’t miss this?” Viloria slips under one side of the blanket, and I join her on the other side. We are tucked in like sardines and now dressed down to our underwear. It’ll be an awkward escape should any ax wielding maniac come upon us in the night. “Most good ideas come without distractions.”

“Let’s just say I have developed a healthy respect for the dangers of the wild.” I pinch one of her cheeks beneath the blankets and she lets out a soft squeal, then returns the favor.

“Ouch! I didn’t get you that hard.”

“You’re a big baby, Vin,” Viloria yawns, “Now, let us get some sleep. We’ll find your muse yet, I know it.” I groan and she turns away from me, then closes her eyes. Outside, the forest is alive with crickets and creaking branches. Occasionally, I hear the sound of scurrying, or snapping twigs, but I mostly hear her breathing beside me. She slipped into sleep easily enough while I have a harder time even closing my eyes. When I finally do, it is only to dream of the same place I am now, but outside of my tent.

***

The forest is louder in my dream; with the song of a million insects that hide in and on the bark of the trees when I pass. Ahead of me, there is a break in the tree line - almost as if a path were built as a divide between the two sides of a dueling orchestra. The insects to my right and to my left compete for their voices to be heard over my footsteps. Beneath me, a chorus of dead leaves crunch with every step. I feel drawn to step forward, again, unafraid of what beast might lurk in the shadows.

It could be described as a pull or attraction that leads me forward, just as it had the night before, and I realize that I am searching for her. Looking for a pair of amber eyes in the darkness, or her bare skin beside one of the trees. But, I never see her. Instead, she calls me. “Davinci.”

I hear my name from my right, to my left, then forward and behind me. It is all around, echoing through the understory. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” It echoes.

“Please, come out so that I may see you.” I search the trees, waiting for her to step out from one of them.

“Come, so that I may see you.” If the words weren’t spoken so sweetly, I’d imagine I were being pranked, or merely hearing my own echo.

“Where are you?” I step forward and place a hand on one of the trees along the path. The bark feels oddly softer than any I have ever felt and void of any branches.

“Here.” The voice answers as the tree before me turns to reveal a young woman, the very same from before. Her thick red waves frame a round face with those beautiful amber eyes and pouty lips - parting to speak my name again, “Davinci!”

“Hey! The sun is up. Wake and shake it, Vin!” Beside me, back in the tent, my girlfriend is vigorously at work with my shoulder, trying to rouse me. “I’m hungry. Gonna go to the car to grab that pizza. I want you to be awake in case I don’t come back.”

I open my eyes slowly, “Pizza? Is it safe?”

“We’ll find out. Come searching if I’m not back in five.” My girlfriend disappears, leaving me alone in the tent. I almost expect to hear the girl’s voice from the shadows, but a silence fills in when Viloria is gone. It’s a moment of peace that is both calming and unsettling.

“Pizza delivery!” I peek my head out of the tent and see my girlfriend appearing from the treeline carrying a greasy pizza box.

“Good. I was beginning to worry that I might not get food poisoning today.” It’s too early to be up, let alone eating, but I drag myself out of the tent anyway to join her at the campfire.

“Fire kills all bacteria. Just BBQ it.” Viloria opens the lid and holds the 14 hour old pizza between us for me to grab a slice.

I stare at the fire, then back at her, “Now what? Just throw it on there?”

Her lips purse in thought and she grabs for a long twig at her side, using it to skewer the crust of her pizza. “Like s’mores!”

“I wasn’t sure, but now I know you are insane.” Still, I copy her and we toast our slices together. Being the gentleman - and also the cautionary man - that I am, I allow her to take the first bite, then wait approximately the length I’d assume it would take for her to keel over before I do the same. It doesn’t taste that bad. The smoke from the fire might have even enhanced the leftover pizza profile. “I think we just invented something new.”

“It’s what we do.” She speaks between bites in her mouth, then licks the tips of her fingers to go for another slice.

“What’s after this?” I decline a second piece and wait for her to finish.

“A cleansing hike through the woods.” Viloria closes the box and stands, again licking her fingers then wiping them at the dust on her pants. “Let’s start now before the sun is high.”

She reaches out and pulls me away from camp as my finger points to the tent, “But… we could just stay there.”

“You need a little sun, C’mon!” I could whimper or complain, but she’s right. I’ve only gotten paler as I age. A year or two back it was due to my busy muse. I’d stay in all day and paint till the moon rose, every night. And prior to that, I had been busy with school. This year and the last, I just simply lost my muse. Like the tides, it comes and goes. It’s just been low tide for longer than I’d like to admit.

We walk West into the trees (or East, or North, or South - I’ve never been good at navigating) and suddenly, what seemed like a small forest, feels like the Salmon-Challis in Idaho. My parents took me there when I was a child. Though, that was before they stopped loving nature’s art in exchange for that created by man. A real shame. Some of my better memories had been of our camping trips in places such as this one. The campfires, fishing, and nature hunts. I remember one time it took me a day just to find a snail. My mother had to have put it on the scavenger hunt list just to keep us kids from camp, but that’s the beauty of nature - you never know what you’ll find. Obscurity makes room for discovery. So many new things await man in places they never thought to look, or in realms they never bothered to see.

Viloria falls back to walk beside me and points out a colony of lichen growing on a fallen tree. When we were kids, it was decided that these were actually mini civilizations of aliens that crash landed from space. The way they spread so quickly over everything had our imaginations running wild with ideas of global domination. Tiny tiny green men, smaller than fleas, coming to cover our homes. Knowing what I know now, lichen are actually quite amazing. They survive in the worst of conditions and places, making them far more resilient than man. Even if they don’t dominate us, it wouldn’t be farfetched to assume they might outlive us. “Still just as cool as they were when we were kids.”

“And so pretty.” Viloria walks over the log and bends to get a closer look. A light green leafy foliose lichen awaits her there, looking almost like salad on the tree. It could have begun there a year ago, or longer, but soon, it’ll be everywhere.

“Prettiest thing here, is you.” I smile when she turns around.

“Flatterer.” She takes the compliment as she might an insult, brushing it off as we move on. Together, we spend the better half of the morning turning over what seems to be every rock and ID’ing every leaf at our feet. Despite my initial reluctance in this, Viloria is actually the first to call off our hike.

“Let’s head back to camp. I think I squirreled away some food in my bag. I’m starving!”

“Glad you said something. Thought I’d die out here. Another ten minutes and I might have just lied down to await the sweet embrace of oblivion.”

Viloria punches me in the shoulder and pulls me back toward camp, “Not until we get back to town. Although, I could just leave you here, and live in your apartment - waiting for those fat envelopes of cash to slide under the door.”

“No way! They were the ones who named me. They owe me.” Gods know I’m not getting paid otherwise.

“You’re right. What maniac dare name their child after two incredibly talented individuals?”

“I can’t argue their talent but you know most successes we see, from the past, today only gained respect in their graves.” Maybe true, maybe just an excuse for my own laziness, and of course she’s always ready to shoot me down.

“I’m sure it’s a common misconception. Life was different back then, and so was success.” Viloria jumps over a log ahead of me - with ease, I might add - then turns to watch me fail. I can’t perform with her eyes on me. Or anyone’s. Not only when it comes to painting, but also when it comes to physical feats that require athletic prowess of any kind. I’ve already lost before my right foot leaves the ground. The tread of my shoe catches on the bark of the fallen log and I find my face landing first on the other side. Viloria laughs and reaches down to help me up. “Good thing those bears weren’t chasing us.”

I refuse her hand and lie facedown - speaking into the dirt, “They might yet come. To erase my humiliation. Let’s wait a while.”

“Vin. This is far less embarrassing than the time-”

My hand shoots up to stop her and I rise, “Let’s not go there.”

“But, you couldn’t have known which story I was to pull out of my hat.”

“Your most popular picks, I’d imagine. Being nearly anything I’ve ever done.” We both know there are many. What remains of my dignity has been hanging on for dear life since college. I’m almost amazed it didn’t die there. If there was a place to lose it - college would’ve been my first guess. Between the insufferable tenured professors and the new generation of pretentious art school attendees, it was a miracle for me to even survive.

“Aww, c’mon. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Viloria smiles and turns, jogging on ahead, “Beat you back to camp!” Her voice mocks me before it disappears between us. There’s no hope of my catching up unless she either stops or comes back for me; because, I’m not running. It’s a reality Viloria revels in, and she doesn’t stop but instead leaves me there alone - for whatever wildlife finds me first. Even then, I wouldn’t run. I’d die as I lived - slow and lazy.

It takes me at least twenty minutes to reach camp again, only to find Viloria near a new fire, already halfway through a package of cookies and a bottle of some fancy water - no doubt, both are from my own kitchen.

“So kind of you to wait.”

“Hey. If my odds were good, I might have this whole thing to myself.” She lifts the package in my direction and I quickly grab a handful of soft chocolate chip cookies - my favorite.

“The odds were not in your favor, milady.” I speak between a mouth full of cookies and water.

Viloria smirks while she raises another cookie to her lips and speaks in her best European accent, “‘Tis a shame, really. My last husband had fallen on our trip to the cliffs of dover. I got a whole package of Keebler back then.”

“You ate at least 15 by the time I showed up. The rest should be mine.” I reach out and take the whole package from her. She resists, but only playfully before turning it over in my possession. They are finished in a matter of minutes, and I’m left thirsty. “Did you only steal three waters from my place?”

“You know me better than that.” She goes over to the tent and reaches in, pulling out another bottle of my mother’s favorite fancy water. I take it and unscrew the cap while I try to again read the foreign name on the front - some word for water, is my guess. The two we had finished on the trails were cooler from sitting overnight. This one is warm, but it quenches my thirst enough; though not without a funny aftertaste I can only hope it isn't the chemicals from the plastic leaching into my water. I finish it, regardless. With how many times I’ve drank one, I’m sure it’d be too late to care if it were, in fact, carcinogenic. Growing up, my parents didn’t supply us with anything else, and tap water was ‘unhealthy’.

“So, what’s next?” I toss the now empty bottle over with the other two we discarded earlier, near the campfire. Viloria leans back onto her hands, “I’m pooped. How about we just sit and enjoy the fire?”

“Oh, such a busy itinerary.” I jest, totally okay with vegging out the remainder of the day. In fact, my legs already feel as though they are paralyzed. Getting up now might not only be something I don’t want to do, but also something I can’t do. Lying down is easiest and Viloria joins me so that we can stare up at the empty sky between the canopies together, “This is the fabled trip you had planned, is it?” I count the birds as they pass; now at seven.

“Nah… I guess age does change things… We could just go home now. That is, if you allow me to stay at your place. My mom thinks I’ll be out all weekend.”

Why doesn't she just move in with me, well, that would break my parents’ hearts; and put a stop to their weekly allowances. Just the thought of getting a dead end job to pay my bills causes my balls to shrivel. That is why our relationship must be more like conjugal visits than a live-in married couple. At least until I get my act together. I’m now faced not only with my parents’ waning patience, but my inner doom clock that rang this year at my twenty-fifth birthday. I hadn’t planned on doing anything before then, and now, I can only look back at the last twenty four years and wonder if I wasted my time - then, forward realizing I may have royally fucked up. Getting my act together now means playing some serious catch up. “No,” I say. “Let’s ride this one out. In true pioneer fashion.”

“With the bears?”

“Yep. Let those fuzzy bastards come.” Maybe they’ll eat me. Save me from the crippling conformity awaiting me back home. One more night away from it all, ought to do me good. “In our last moments together, may we have a roaring fire. Wanna kindle it?”

“Suuure, I can tend to the fire.” Viloria stands up and brushes herself off before walking over to a small pile of gathered branches. She grabs two of the bigger pieces and tosses them over. One lands in the fire and the other lands halfway out - between my feet. It sends a spiral of embers over where I sit and I am forced up before they singe my pants.

“HEY!”

“Just checking your reflexes.” She smiles.

“Or trying to secure my inheritance?”

“Was it that obvious?” She tosses another branch and it lands nowhere near the pit, “Nah. I just suck at throwing.”

“I can tell. Sheesh.” I lean down and flip the branch nearest me into the fire, then retrieve the second which landed near the tent. “This one was way off.” In my head, I graciously flip the branch before me and catch it again - definitely impressing the lady. However, it really is not gracious at all and awkwardly hits my wrist before falling and stubbing my toe. I grit my teeth as Viloria laughs, then stubbornly toss the damned thing in the fire. Chalk it up to my own inadequacies when it comes to athletics - or deftness of the hands - but I choose to blame the branch. It clearly wasn’t made for aerodynamics.

“We both suck.”

“That is why we must do it, together, m’lady.” I bow with the finesse of a senior drama student - with a little added flair of my own, by coming back up holding a small white flower. “For you.”

“Why, it is only the finest lovechild of the invasive weed. You, my good knight, spoil me.” She reaches out and takes the bloom, then tucks it’s stem behind her ear. Above, the sun is well on it’s descent - bringing with it the warmth we’ve had all day. Already, I can feel the tips of my fingers growing cold.

“May be cold tonight.”

My girlfriend pulls her phone from the back pocket of her pants, glances at the screen, “It’s just after Seven O’Clock now. Should we call it a night?” She has reached the tent and crawls inside. “We can head back in the morning.”

“I guess so.” I stand and extinguish the flames again. The best way I know how - killing two birds with one stone. It’s hardly sufficient from lack of water, though, and the logs still charr as I stand in search of something to smother the flames.

“Let it burn out. C’mon. I’m tired.”

“Burn out or burn us?” I look to the tent then back to the fire. It’s small enough but Smokey the Bear always told me to be safe while camping, and leaving even a small campfire through the night screams wildfire. Yet, I leave the remainder of the blaze and join Viloria.

We bed down together in silence and I can’t decide if it’s because of what I said or something else. After all, if we are anything together, it’s never silent - which could only mean Armageddon. Or, I’m just as easily reading into things. To test which hypothesis is true, I turn over and poke my girlfriend gently in the side. When she makes no move I poke her again, only harder. This time, a hand swings back, clocking me in the face. “GoodNIGHT.”

I have my answer, but I'm a glutton for punishment, “If I could inquire regarding this sudden change of tone, m’lady.”

The blanket is pulled tighter under her as she turns onto her stomach and mumbles to me, “Sweet dreams.” The next I hear from her is the deep breath of sleep. I can’t sleep again. Instead, I rise and leave the tent.

***

The fire has died without killing us, but has pitched the campsite into darkness. It doesn’t help me to navigate quietly away from the tent, but my stumbling doesn’t appear to wake Viloria. I don’t know where I’m going, I just walk - letting something else decide which way I turn. Whatever it is leads me deep into the trees where the darkness becomes a void and where my eyes suddenly see things out of nothing. I’d say it was like the moment when you close your eyes just before you sleep. I like to think of that as the clean slate for what you might dream. Just like a canvas, our eyes paint images on the backs of our lids. My eyes do the same out here in the trees, knowing they are there, but seeing something else. My hand rubs at my eyes hoping for them to adjust. Yet, so little light penetrates this deep in the woods at night that I am forced to imagine where each tree is before I hit it. It is better in such a situation to no longer focus on sight and instead listen for the forest.

Footsteps. “Viloria?” Her name feels the air in front of me, probing for an answer spoken back in her soft voice. No words, just more steps growing nearer. I turn a circle - suddenly aware that I am afraid. “Who is there?”

The sounds stop next to where I am now frozen with fear. A breath - no, the wind? - touches my neck and I hear one word, “Einar.” It is spoken softer than Viloria, yet familiar.

“What do you want?” My eyes can now see the trees before me and I turn to see another, close at my side. With purpose, it moves. I step aside as the white oak turns, revealing the soft bare skin of the same red-haired girl I’ve been seeing. Her wide amber eyes stare at me as her hands twist and transform from the branches of the tree, reaching out. I’m crazy, this is crazy. And yet, I cannot draw my eyes away from her form, now more featured than it had ever been so far. I can’t decide if this, too, is yet another dream, but the sensation is very real. The velvet of her skin touches with that of my fingertips and I run them down the length of her body, then back up to her face where our eyes meet. In hers, I see as if looking into an open pool that churns and spirals. They sparkle with an otherworldly brilliance that captivates me - traps me in them. I find myself wanting to stay, as if I had willed for this meeting to happen again. But, it always ends, and with every door closing, a new one opens - beginning with my eyes.