A dream

Elle marchait les pieds nusA woman stood on the beach. She looked back at the last remaining vestiges of her ship, a broken hull splintered on the shore. The final slow waves of the withering storm washed gracefully against the shattered wood. She turned slowly on the sand and walked into the misty jungle, the fog slowly enveloping her as she disappeared among the trees. As she entered the jungle, the humidity weighed upon her, driving her feet deep into the mud. She stumbled again and again as the undergrowth grew thicker, far beneath the canopy that separated her from the sky. Finally, she could move no further, her body wracked with exhaustion from the previous night’s storm and the long journey into this lonely paradise when suddenly she came upon a cliff overlooking a bright blue pool of water. She stood there among the bramble thicket, her hair smeared across her face from exertion, her sweat-soaked clothes clinging to her form. She stared down into the pool and saw herself, a silhouette against the sky, laced with trees. The woman jumped into the water, her arms flailing as she plummeted through the air. The splash of her body was the last sound she made as she slowly sank to the bottom of the pool.

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