I.
	I stood atop the dusty precipice and gazed into the liquid darkness below.  I was 
so far above the surface that milky clouds swept and moved beneath me in swirling 
whirlpools.  In the cold of the upper altitudes I sweated with nervousness and indecision, 
constantly second guessing myself and wondering how far it was to the bottom.  As I 
rushed to make peace with my soul, praying to the gods that it would be over quickly, I 
untied my hair and allowed it to whip and wave in the storm.  I was beautiful once, I 
remembered, when the gentle spring brought happiness and I had no care but to run 
barefoot in the grass and weave flowers into crowns of pixies.  Now I felt old and dark, 
and was ready to accept whatever fate the cold world had chosen for me.
	I took off my sandals, and stepped forward until I could curl my toes around the 
edge of the cliff.  The rim was sharp, and I could feel it cutting into my fragile skin, but I 
was dulled to the pain it would have caused someone less desperate.  I took one last look 
into the unknown abyss, as tears welled and overflowed onto my wind-ravaged face.  
With my arms raised, I said a silent goodbye to all those that I had ever loved, to those 
that had loved me once, and I propelled myself face-first into the depth.
	As I began to fall, the world and time began to flow slower and slower, until 
every rock, every struggling weed, every crack and crevice was visible in slow motion as 
I blazed by.  I began to remember how my life once was.  When I spent days in the green 
grass, picking flowers and telling stories passed through the generations.  When my skin 
got pink from the sun as I wrote songs until it was dark. When I tasted the fresh water 
that flowed from cool clean streams, and had impromptu picnics in the woods.  When I 
could talk forever with people, my slender fingers intermingling with those of 
companions and lovers past, watching the glowing orb set behind the distant hills.  
Handshakes and hugs and kisses of friendship and love, where had I left them, and why?
	Watching as the floor of jagged rocks approached, I began to wish for the way 
things were.  I tightened my fists and tried to reverse what I had just done, but the laws of 
time would not be broken.  My sorrow knotted my heart, tighter and tighter, until, in spite 
of my clenched teeth, I began to wail with all the sorrow I had lived with for so long.  I 
plummeted with hopeless tears pouring from my eyes.  My white robes whipped against 
my body and my hair flowed like a violent river.  In fear, I held my arms in front of my 
face and prepared for my final moment.
	Then, thunder!  The wind roared violently and the black clouds parted, revealing a 
ray of golden sun blazing through the darkness.  By its brilliance I was blinded to my 
hate, my sorrow, and my misery.  With a final keen, I spread my white, pure wings and 
flew upward towards the warmth and the peace, and vowed that I would return to the love 
and happiness I had once possessed.
With a final weak flap, I skidded to a landing on the dry, cracked earth and fell to 
my knees.  I was wheezing with the effort and exertion, and finally succumbed to my 
exhaustion in a crumpled heap on the ground.  As I fell into deeper and deeper sleep, the 
dreams in the air began to play in and out of my mind.  
I saw myself back home, in my previous life, lying in a field of green grass and 
colorful wildflowers as fluffy clouds drifted in the blue sky.  I was wearing long robes of 
pure white and light blue, soft and relaxing.  My hair flowed and draped itself along my 
shoulders, deep copper and shining in the light.  I had nothing covering my feet, save a 
few toe rings and an anklet decorated with protective runes that I always wore on my 
right foot.  It was something I had done many times, trying to get in touch with my true 
heavenly being through meditation and thought.  
I was agitated, though.  What had at one time brought relaxation and insight was 
no longer satisfying, and I watched myself struggling with some unknown urges which 
were yet unexplained.  I stood up and began to walk.  All around me the world grew dark.  
The flowers and grass were torn from the ground and a barren, heartless landscape was 
revealed.  The sky was stained from vivid blue to a dead gray, and the trees were stripped 
of their foliage and left cragged and dead, still grasping the cracked soil with their roots.  
I still walked ahead.
In the distance, I could see a dark figure.  A man making his way towards me, 
dressed in nothing but black and red, his clothing flowing just as mine was.  He made his 
way to me, until we finally came upon each other amongst the swirls of dust. As we met, 
I looked to his face, but there was nothing there to be seen.  I only felt a strange sense of 
coldness from his being, but I was somehow drawn to him.  He took my right hand in his 
left, and laced his fingers with mine, and I was overcome with some passionate force of 
which I had no understanding.  Slowly, I ran my free hand to his face and felt the 
curvature of his jawbone that I couldn't perceive through sight.  I moved my face towards 
his, and slowly, I kissed him.  I could not see his reaction, nor did I really care, but I felt 
as if I had known this person, cold and dark, all of my life.  As we embraced, I entered a 
strange state of uneasiness, and withdrew suddenly.  Something glinted in the little light 
that was left, and I only saw the knife a moment before it plunged into my heart.  
Instantly, the dark man turned to vapor, and I fell back towards the ground.  In the 
eternity it took for me to fall, tears streamed like jewels from my eyes, and I gasped for 
breath.  Hitting the soil, I noticed my bloodstained white robes a moment, and then 
surrendered as my life force flowed to the ground and disappeared into the cracked earth.

I screamed and clutched my hand to my chest as I broke through the shroud of the 
dream.  My face was caked with dirt and my white clothing was torn and stained from 
being on the ground.  My once coppery hair was dull and in knots from being whipped by 
the wind, and I ached with hunger.  I decided that my physical needs outweighed my 
emotional ones for the moment, and I pulled myself from the ground to scour the barren 
land for some food or some aid.
Maybe this is a test of my will, I thought to myself as I began to push forward into 
the unknown lands ahead.  Maybe through my turmoil, I was worthy to live, after all.

II.

I raced along the dirt path toting a stack of papers and my wooden pan flute, 
which were in a pack slung over my shoulder.  There was really no reason to be rushing, I 
had nowhere to be, but the beautiful sunny weather always made me want to run.  Some 
of the others wondered why I didn't just fly.  "It takes half the time," they said.  What 
was the satisfaction in that?  The trees were blossoming with spring flowers, the clouds 
were dancing on the wind, and I found my heart dancing, too.  I watched the billows as I 
dashed along the route, my sandals kicking up dust in my wake.  What a wonderful day to 
write music, I thought as I took a deep breath, smelling the freshness of the air.  My dress 
was fluttering in the wind, the gauzy fabric flying like a banner as I searched for a place 
to settle for the day.
There was my tree, off in the distance.  The ancient oak with the rough curling 
branches, like a grandfather's arms, reaching to the same young blue sky that I was 
staring at.  Waiting for the rain so your grandchildren might grow and experience this 
life, I thought.  I rested beneath its shade and took my flute out of my pack.  I blew a few 
notes, my hot breath vibrating the tubes and creating haunting notes that rode the wind.  I 
smiled to myself and admired the simple beauty of the sound.
I played a few more notes, beginning to outline a song.  When the wind gusted, I 
tried to echo its music.  I stood and conversed with the breeze, and began to dance.  I 
leaped into the air and flourished a few notes.  I twirled and sent the music flying to the 
four corners of the earth.  I rested, and let the music flow slowly and solemnly.  I 
surrendered to the control of nature, and listened as we harmonized together.
Exhausted, I collapsed to the ground and rested my heart and breath, still 
eavesdropping on the voices of the breeze.   I fell under the hypnosis of the sun as it 
passed overhead and began to drop behind the hills.  The air was musky with the perfume 
of a thousand songs, and the warmth pressed down on my body heavily.
Then, the silence was broken by a rustling behind my tree.  I sat still and waited, 
and heard it again, this time closer.  Someone was watching me, and I was compelled to 
find out whom it was.  I sat up slowly and quietly.  There it was again.  I could hear it 
behind me and to the left.  I turned quickly, my robes swirling in the air, and I faced the 
interruption.  The wind picked up again, and I saw him.  Oh, what glorious serendipity it 
was, that first meeting.  
He was dressed in plain-woven clothing, nothing like my diaphanous fine clothes.  
He was barefoot, like me, and had a gentle, friendly face; masculine, but not 
overpowering.  His eyes were deep brown, with pupils expanding as the darkness began 
to envelop the earth.
I took a step closer to him and he looked surprised, but stood his ground.  I took 
another step, and another, and we finally met, gazing into each other's eyes.  I held my 
hand to him, to show him my kind intent, and he took it in his.  I could feel the warmth of 
my cheeks, and wondered if it was from the sun, or the multitude of feelings I was 
having.
"Hello," I said tentatively, breaking the silence.
"Hello," he answered breathily.  The wind blew again, and it smelled like a 
thousand waterfalls rushing around me.
"My name is." I began.
"Jocelyn, I know.  I've seen you here many times, wishing that I could meet you."
I looked to him, amazed.  He had watched me so many times, singing to myself, 
and painting and sketching?  I unfurled my wings unconsciously, and he did the same.  
They resembled him, plain, but beautiful, if something could be such a way.  
We both sat down in the long grass, and we talked of my music, and his life (he 
was an architect's apprentice), and the many wonders of our world.  And as the moon 
glowed in the bedecked ceiling, we kissed a wondrous kiss of love, so undeveloped, but 
so pure.  
I was so overwhelmed that I flew home that night.  I wept with a happiness that I 
couldn't place, and an ecstasy that had no written bounds.  Matthew, his name was 
Matthew.  And I loved him.

III.

I coughed and sputtered as I tried to down another gulp of the filthy water.  It was 
dirty and filled with bugs, but it was the only water offered by the unforgiving gray land.  
I had long since stopped crying; I couldn't waste any more of my body's moisture on 
tears, but confusion still plagued me.  Where could I go from there?  It's very easy to dig 
a hole, but once you're inside, how do you get out? I asked myself.
I hugged my knees and realized just how alone I was.  No sign of life for miles 
around, no companionship, and me, well, in my state I wasn't very good company either.  
I wished I hadn't left my sandals behind; the blisters on my feet reminded me of my 
carelessness at every step.  I gazed into the water hole, and saw myself, my dirty face and 
clothes, ratty hair, and my soul.  My soul was dying, I could feel it, and I could see it in 
my eyes.  If I got home, what would be there for me?  Would anyone recognize me?  
Would it matter?
Stop it! I ordered myself.  I couldn't let doubt hinder me.  But what to do?
I began to hum a song.  Softly, and in a dry throat, the notes were haunting and 
nearly nonexistent.  It was nothing at first, air with an undefined purpose, but I 
recognized it.  The sad, lilting tune, the long passages-it was his song.  The only thing I 
had ever written with doubtless conviction.  
Memories were difficult now.  Not to come by, I had plenty.  But they hurt.  My 
friends that I missed so much.  How could I have left them behind?  And the roses, they 
were blooming now.  I could almost smell them; red as blood and so numerous that they 
practically stained the earth.  
I laughed to myself.  So alike they were to my plight, the blossoming roses.  Like 
memories, each flower.  Parts so beautiful that seeing them could bring pleasure to one's 
heart, but also, to one who isn't looking, so sharp that one prick from an unexpected 
thorn could drain one's life away.
My memories were draining my life away, and all I could do was sit and watch it 
happen.

IV.

I woke up to the sun pouring in my window.  Another lazy day with no reason to 
wake besides the world outside.  No obligations beyond the admiration of nature, the 
spectrum of beauty grasping for the attention of my senses.
I grabbed a pale purple tunic and a pair of cutoff pants from the drawer and 
carried them out of my house, down toward the river.  I stripped out of my sleeping 
clothes and stepped into the cold water, feeling it rush around me as it became waist, 
chest, and neck high.  I gasped, and then thanked the gods for such a wonderful, 
exhilarating experience.  I dunked my head under the current and felt my long brown hair 
flowing furiously around my face.  I tentatively opened my eyes under the water.  
Everything was distorted, and I smiled.  It was like an entirely different world that I was a 
part of, if only for these few moments each day.  I watched as a fish swam upstream, 
straining against the current.  I wondered what could make a creature work so hard for 
something.  Maybe everyone needs something to work for, I thought, but what is my 
purpose, then?  Before I had an opportunity to reflect, I heard a huge splash and I jerked 
my head above the water in panic.
"Ha, ha, ha!" Matthew laughed as I stared at him in wide-eyed, startled 
amazement.  "You need to calm down a little bit, sweetheart."
"That was not funny!" I said, trying to hold back a smile.  I dived at him and 
pushed his head underneath the water.  We wrestled frantically for a few minutes and 
then swam to shore, exhausted but clean and happy.
We sunned ourselves dry on the shore a little bit, talking about whatever came to 
mind.  That was one thing I loved about him; he was so easy to talk to.  And he always 
smelled so good.  It was a smell I couldn't quite place, like a fond memory and 
masculinity floating together in some wonderful uncategorized entity.
I moved closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder, and I let my eyelids 
sink until I was resting serenely.  Matthew ran his hands through my hair, untangling it as 
it dried.  I fell asleep peacefully.
When I opened my eyes again, I looked up, and saw his face smiling back at me.  
I ran my hand unconsciously through my hair and found that he had decorated me with 
tiny white flowers while I had slept.  I sat up and let my hair fall around my shoulders.  
"I feel like a goddess, so pampered like this," I said.  I stretched my muscles and 
yawned, enjoying the warm sun on my bare skin.
Matthew earnestly took my hand in his.  " That's because you are one," he said.  
He put his other hand around my waist, and I reached to put my arms around his neck.  
We looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and kissed.  
"C'mon, let's get dressed, I have something to show you," he said suddenly.  He 
was obviously excited, and the feeling was contagious.  I hurried to put on my pants and 
tunic, and he led me to the edge of the woods.
"You have to promise not to tell anyone about this," he said.
"I won't tell a soul," I agreed.  He took my hand and led me to an old maple tree.  
He ran to it, and then began to climb it.
"Here, I'll help you," he said.  I grabbed his outstretched hand and curled my toes 
around the bark of the tree.  It poked into the fragile skin of my feet, but my 
overwhelming feelings of excitement dulled me to the pain it might have caused someone 
less anticipant.
	We climbed higher and higher towards the heavens, and finally burst through the 
canopy above.  The view over the treetops was spectacular.  The forest spread outward 
for miles and the sea of green flowed and pulsed in the wind.  
	"This is absolutely beautiful," I said in awe.  I gazed around me, marveling in the 
beauty of the forest.
	"That's not all I have for you," he said, reaching for something in the pocket of 
his trousers.  He reached his arms around underneath my jawbone, and then brought them 
away to reveal a strand of gold around my neck.  On the end was a heart shaped charm 
with a diamond in the center.  I held it in my hands for a minute, and then looked at 
Matthew.
	"It was my mother's.  Before she died, she made me promise that I would give her 
necklace to the woman I fell in love with.  And I love you, Jocelyn, more than anyone 
else in the entire world."
	Tears welled in my eyes.  I held him to me tightly, and then I kissed him with all 
the love I had ever felt.  I looked and saw his smiling eyes looking at me.  He began to 
laugh, a hearty, wonderful laugh of pure joy.
	"I love you too, Matthew."  I said.  And I meant it, with all the sincerity I had in 
my soul.  He was perfect.

V.

	I had been walking for about three hours, and the hunger pains in my stomach 
were beginning to scream and tear at me.  It had been more than four days since my last 
meal, and my energy was running dry.  At least I was reaching land that had some life to 
it.
	The dry, lifeless earth had been progressively turning grassier within the last day.  
Every once in a while, I had noticed a small plant peeking from the sandy soil.  It made 
me a little more hopeful that I might find something edible soon.  
	I began to hum Matthew's song again.  I kept the rhythm in my footsteps, and the 
cadence-like activity made the time go faster.  Oh, Matthew, I miss you so much, I 
thought to myself.  I reached into my robe and found the tiny gold strand with the heart-
shaped charm hanging from it.  I clutched it in my hand and made a prayer to the gods 
that he was all right, wherever he was now.  I still loved him, despite all that had 
happened in our lives, and I hoped my love would be enough if I ever saw him again.  
	As I was deep in thought, I almost missed an opportunity for food.  There was a 
dying tree about 20 feet to my left, and underneath it was a struggling, but ripe, 
blackberry bush.  I was so excited that I staggered as quickly as I could to the tree, and 
began to fill my hand full of blackberries.  His favorite, I remembered as I dropped them 
one by one into my mouth.  I filled my stomach full of blackberries, gorging on their 
sweetness and life giving juices.  
	I rested once I was finished.  The bush had been cleaned of fruit, but I knew the 
sacrifice had been worth it, for my sake.  I began to wonder where he was, now that I 
could ponder something other than my appetite.  That handsome man, with the laughing 
eyes, strong body, loving hands, wonderful heart.  
	I fell asleep with the thought of him, and just before, I wondered why I cared so 
much.  I loved him, to be sure, but was it really worth it, through all the hurt and strife 
that had passed between?  I wondered if I my heart cared too much.  But there had to be a 
reason why it refused to give up.  The mind may learn to forget, but the heart knows the 
truth.  
	With that thought to guide me, I fell into sleep on the warm ground.  What truth 
could my heart reveal?




VI.

	The warmth of summer, and the crispness and beauty of autumn were slowly 
surrendering to the clutches of the bleak winter.  The leaves fell from the trees as the icy 
North wind began to stab and cut in its fury.  The blue sky was fading into grayness, and 
the clouds that once delivered fresh rain now battered the earth with sleet and snow.  
	I pulled on a heavy coat and fur-lined hat, and slipped into a pair of warm winter 
boots, then wrapped a scarf around my face and prepared to face the storm outside.  It 
was not a day that I would usually try to brave, but, deep in my heart, I had a sense that 
this day was important, though I had no idea why.
	I pushed open the door, displacing a snowdrift that was accumulating against the 
side of the house, and I pressed against the wind until I came to an open field.  There, I 
took a running start, going as fast as I could manage against the oppressive gale, and took 
off into the sky, my muscled wings flapping rhythmically, working to fight the storm.  I 
wasn't about to trudge through knee-deep snow to reach my destination.
	From above, the world looked like a cottony, figureless form.    Every once in a 
while, a naked, grasping tree jutted through the soft carpet of snow, but there was no 
movement on the ground.  Not even the white of the hearty snow fox was to be seen 
through the denseness; he hadn't a reason like mine to be outside.  Then, in the distance, I 
saw the great woods, a wall against the storm.  I knew once I found shelter in the 
branches of the ancient trees, I would be able to rest and walk the rest of the distance.
	Coming to a landing, I ran to the edge of the woods and rested, embraced below 
the saving arms of the jagged oaks and strong, tall maples.  I was already tired, but I still 
had far to go before I could rest for long.  I entered the forest and weaved around the 
skeletal, leafless giants, admiring the beauty of the occasional evergreens, still flourishing 
in such a bleak world.  I knew the way to my destination so well, that I barely needed to 
think about the direction or the distance, but my mind was being nudged continually by 
other thoughts whose nature was hauntingly unexplained.
	I was dealing with an uneasiness that I couldn't place.  It wasn't based on an 
occurrence, or something said, or something seen, it was merely a thorny knot in my 
stomach that refused to be ignored.  
	Before very long, or at least before I was done musing, I came upon the lonely 
cottage in the middle of the shadowy woods.  He was in there, the man that I loved more 
than anyone else in the world.  And I needed to know what I couldn't possibly know.
	I knocked on the door.  Nobody answered, but I went inside anyway, where it was 
sure to be more inviting than the outdoors, or so I hoped.  A fire was burning inside, but I 
still couldn't see anyone.  I walked in further, and the floorboards groaned under my 
weight.
	"Hello?" I said, hoping that there might be a reply.  Nothing.  Nothing but a faint 
rustling from the loft.  I hurried to climb the wooden ladder and when I got to the top, I 
saw him sitting there, filling his bag with clothing and food.
	"Matthew, what are you doing?" I asked.  He glanced from his activity at me, and 
I noticed a tinge of something in his eyes.  Sadness, maybe, or regret for something.  
	"I, I wasn't going to say anything," he began.
	"Any thing about what?" I interrupted, becoming more frantic in both my 
thoughts and my already stirred emotions.
	"I have to leave.  I'm packing," he said quickly as if he were trying to rid himself 
of a painful secret.  I got a lump in my throat, because my mind was racing to a million 
different conclusions at once, and I could feel some hellish imps grasping at my heart 
from below.
	"What, you mean you're going on an apprentice trip?  You've done that at least 
three times before.  Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, praying to the unseen that I was 
correct.  
	"I'm not going on another apprentice trip," he said.  "I'll be gone much longer 
than that."
	My heart was sinking, being drawn down, down.  My breathing became shallow, 
as if the pressure was draining from the room.
	"I wasn't going to tell you, I thought it would be better that way.  I love you very 
much, but I feel like there's so much more of this life that I don't know, and I want to 
experience all that I can before it's too late," Matthew said, rushing his words as if he 
found them unclean, yet rehearsed, and lacking some dimension of feeling.
	I stood there in the middle of the floor and listened to every breath that I took, in 
and out, in and out.  I was dreaming some terrible nightmare, some night terror that 
would jolt me awake any moment, and I would be safe, next to him again.
	"What about me?  Don't I make you happy?" I whispered, as I threatened to 
overflow.  I could feel something inside me cracking, slowly, painfully.  The fragile 
porcelain of my soul breaking from some careless impact.
	"It's not that, I care for you, but I can't really be sure of myself unless I know 
what's out there," he said.  He walked towards me and wrapped his arms around my 
trembling body, and I finally began to sob in his arms.  I was in pain, I was dying.  Tears 
bled from my eyes in gallons, and I silently cursed the gods that had forsaken me. 
	Matthew unwrapped his arms from me, kissed my forehead, and grabbed his bag.
	"I'll always have a piece of your heart, and you'll always have a piece of mine.  
Don't forget that, Jocelyn," he said, then walked out the door, leaving nothing of himself 
but thorny recollections.
	I crumpled to the floor and sobbed as the life flowed from my body.  I was dying.  
My soul was dying.
	Crash.

VII.

	The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the brightness.  The clouds, the 
oppressive, bellowing beasts, had left the sky.  And it was warmer, quite a bit in fact.  I 
unfurled my wings and stretched them, and felt some bit of energy, as if the return of the 
elusive orb had reinvigorated my body, along with my morale.  I think I might make it 
home, I said to myself, as I stood up and prepared to walk again.  
	The air was fresher and I noticed the grass was getting thicker and thicker as I 
moved on.  There were even a few flowers here and there, and there was color to the sky 
and the land.  I began to think of all the people I would see once I returned home.  My 
friends, my dear friends that I loved so much.  Love.  That was something that I hadn't 
thought of in a long, long time.  It's funny how one experience can change your entire 
perspective, I thought to myself.
	I kept on walking, admiring the steadily increasing greenery and the repopulation 
of white, fluffy clouds in the sky.  I had an uneasy feeling, however, though I couldn't 
quite figure out why.  
	Then, I saw it.
	The dark, unknown being at the horizon.  I stopped and stared for a moment.  I 
considered running, but a mysterious sense of serenity overtook my fragile body.  My 
dream had come to me; it had shown me the way.  Chains of fear broke around me and 
fell into the dust of oblivion.  I could face him; I wasn't afraid.

VIII.

	I was barely coherent as I stumbled out the door.  I was frantic, and crying, and 
confused by all that had happened.  I was in love.  I was in love, but it didn't matter.  It 
didn't matter.  I wasn't worth it, and I didn't know what to do.  I wouldn't be the same 
again.  Layers and layers of hate and confusion peeled away, refreshing themselves and 
sinking into my very being.
	I rushed through the forest, branches tearing at my delicate clothing.  I couldn't 
tell where I was going through my window of tears, but I trusted that I would be guided 
somewhere.  I thrust myself out of the forest, and began to trudge through the snow.  I 
didn't stop.  
	Eventually, as I walked for some hours, days, weeks, I couldn't tell, the snow 
gave way to a barren, mountainous landscape.  There were no trees I could identify, no 
people, nothing.  But I didn't care.  I had gone beyond caring about myself, or anyone 
else.  The ability had long since abandoned me, as I had been abandoned before.  I was 
beyond thinking, or feeling, or rationality.  I just wanted closure.  An ending to the pain.  
And I knew of only one way to get the closure I needed.
	I climbed towards the upper altitudes, grasping each rock and foothold with all of 
the strength that remained in my grief ravaged shell, searching for something that I 
couldn't envision.  I went on, gazing into the darkness, eyeing each peak and overhang.
	I saw it.
	I walked towards the edge and peered over.  Nothing.  Nothing but the sweeping 
clouds below me and darkness beyond.  I took a deep breath, and decided that it was 
time.  My time.  And I could finally be at peace.  

IX.

	The figure was dark and almost imperceptible, even in the now bright light of day.  
I kept walking towards him, as he walked to me.  I thought I could hear the pulse of my 
heart through the air.  I was being reminded of the precious second chance at life with 
which I had been blessed.  Time began to slow, and I could feel every blade of grass as it 
was grasped between my toes.  Every breath came sweeter as the figure came closer.  
Soon we stood facing each other, and a supernatural chill came over my body.
	I couldn't see his face, it was hidden beneath a black cloak, but I could perceive 
his likeness, and he was familiar to me.  Without fear, I took his hand in mine, and looked 
to his dark face.
	"Hello," I said breathily.
	"Hello," he replied.  His voice traveled like a song on the wind, not quite real but 
perceived somewhere deep inside my being.
	"My name is."
	"Jocelyn, I know.  We loved each other once."
	I stood there for a moment, in full understanding of what I was facing.  The power 
that I felt, the raw power in that dark body that needed only to be exerted in some way.  It 
began to wrap itself around me, as if some serpent was preying on my heart.  The world 
became hazier as I fell under the spell.  I could sense my being wasting away.
Then, thunder, as I broke from the trance, spread my wings and forced my way 
past.  I looked behind in time to see his lingering vapor disintegrate into the air of the 
day.
	I could feel how close I was now.  My cells were awake and my blood was 
boiling as I approached the entrance to the enclosed valley.  I could see them all below.  
Each and every one of my dearest friends waiting for me at the bottom of the final 
crossing.  I broke into a run, letting the fresh breeze entice my nostrils with sweet 
perfume.  My bare feet kicked up dust behind as I nearly flew to the bottom.  
	Now it was finally time, I thought.  Our time.  And I couldn't wait for the 
adventure to begin.
	


Being
By Jessica Silver


Thanks

	I'd just like to take the time and say thanks to the people who inspired me to 
actually sit down at the computer and write an entire story.  First of all, if it hadn't been 
for David whining at me to have this finished before the Euro Trip, I wouldn't have 
finished the first draft at all.  I love ya, kid, but you sure can be persistent.
	Secondly, Marni, my cool friend, and probably one of the few people who can 
painfully understand every bit of symbolism in this allegory.  You go girl.
	To Abby, the one who actually labeled this as an allegory.  Enough of that wishful 
thinking, you inspired me to change the ending.
	To Every one of my friends who mean the world to me.  I swear, sometimes I just 
have to run down a hill to you guys to realize how lucky I really am.  You help me find 
my wings to fly.
	And to Mike, who probably doesn't know this and really doesn't care, you were 
the inspiration behind this whole thing.  With out your real-life actions, I would never 
have been so inspired to put "pen to paper" (or fingers to keyboard, as the case may be) 
and give my feelings life.  I hope you finally find happiness in college.  Remember, we're 
all your friends.
	Thanks everyone.  You mean a lot.

~~~~~~~Jessi~~~~~~~