She's a shimmer of gold in the rising sun. I'm not allowed to see her face, only the threads of her sheening hair, caught on evergreen branches and spilling long and tawny into the wind. She moves briskly behind the thick base of a spruce and I follow her like I've always followed her. Dumb and blind.

And then I find her, a goddess in ethereal sunlight. She stands beside a door attached to nothing, leading to nothing. Inside of it is a vast, empty white. But I can finally see her face, eyes like temperate storm clouds. Looking into them hurts like death. The kind of pain that makes me want to break myself open and remove her like a splinter.

God, she's so beautiful.

She looks to the door—that white emptiness blinding. Her profile halos in the crisp dawn light.

I don't know where she's going, or where that empty door leads. But I can't stop myself.

"Let me come with you."

She considers this for a moment, slender fingers flowing along all the cracks in the door frame.

"If you come with me," she says, "you can't ever go back."

Then she moves into the door and white washes her down to the threads of her sweater. She's gone. But the door is still open, and her voice is there in my head, ticking on like a clock.

My little ghost whispers; you can't ever go back. 

You can't ever go back.

I can't ever go back.

an; I'll be back very soon. ♥