Trees. Underbrush rustling with animals that fell deathly still as I passed.Flashes of sensation: gravel cutting my feet, wind on my bare chest and back, blood on my fingers, my lips.Flashes of sounds: forest, the river, cars. Eventually, my own breathing. Too loud. And then: voices.First too many voices. A bar, a club, laughter, anger, lust. The rhythmic pound of music. Heat I could consume. Life I wanted and could have. If I stepped over the threshold.Then only one life, sweet and burning in front of me: Dessa.“Shame,” she said through my pain, around the finger-painted slide of colors and agony that made up the world. “You can’t go in there. You’re safe. Safe with me.”The world pushed past me. Life roaring by like a thundering wave. Maybe she was still there. I didn’t know.A scream of colors slashed me to the bone. Then everything went black.“Don’t move.”Was that Dessa? It sounded like her. I could smell her perfume, a burst of vanilla and sweet spices. Could feel her strong, beating heart.
