as I stood on the edge of the
forest, shuffling through the minds of humans sleeping peacefully before me.
There was a disgustingly low amount of
ideas to work with. It was either socks or vampires, neither of which I had
much desire to dip into. It had been a while since I’d made my way near this
town, and with the way things were looking, I didn’t think I’d be returning any
time soon.
I decided to give the place one last
try, my mind sorting through the few remaining mortals, one of which was having
an extremely vivid dream about eating a sandwich. I rolled my eyes and gave a
laugh. Nope, I was done here. I turned and began walking into the woods,
towards the magical path which would take me home to The Glen.
I was almost beyond the barrier when,
suddenly, a dream caught my attention and I froze—my interest aroused. I
relaxed and allowed myself to slip quietly into the fantasy, anticipation
building at the fun I was about to have.
It was a girl, a young woman actually,
dancing by herself in a pool of soft light. She twisted and turned her body
with a grace that mesmerized and held me in place with a force I couldn’t
describe or understand. A classical piano piece was coming from somewhere, but
I was so entranced by her I didn’t look around for the source, allowing her
performance to flood my senses. After a few moments, she finished her beautiful
movement and placed her slippered feet into a ballet style pose, then turned,
looking right at me it seemed. I knew it was rude to stare this way, but
knowing she couldn’t see me, I decided to entertain my odd and inexplicable
desire to know her better. I was so caught up in what I was feeling I didn’t
realize she was starting to act uncomfortable.
“Can I help you?” she asked, softly. I
continued to watch, held captive by her. Her eyebrows raised and she cleared
her throat while I looked around, wondering who she was talking to. I saw no
other character in her dream. “I believe I asked if I could help you with
something.” Her voice was more forceful, almost angry sounding. I started
suddenly as I realized she was talking to me .
“Me?” I asked just to make sure I wasn’t
mistaken. Well, this is a first, I thought.
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms.
“Yes, you. Who else would I be speaking to? Do you see anyone else here?”
I looked around, feeling like an idiot.
I didn’t know what to do. Realizing my stupidity, I quickly withdrew my mind
from hers, stunned at the “conversation” I’d just had. I tried to think of why
my ability to stay hidden while probing another’s awareness hadn’t worked, but
no good reasons came to me.
Had it been a fluke–a one-time thing? I asked myself.
This was completely unprecedented. I analyzed what had happened, and unable to
come to any type of conclusion, I decided to reach out to her again. What’s
the worst that could happen? She’ll still see me and I’ll leave, end of story, I reasoned.
Carefully, I reentered the dream—this
time tip toeing into her imagination. She had resumed her dancing as if nothing
had even happened, spinning with unbelievable balance.
Had she already forgotten about me? I wondered. I
remained quietly in the shadows, trying not to chortle over her possible
attention span problem, thinking of how I should safely test if she could see
me or not.
Suddenly, I spotted her ballet slippers
and the beautiful ties, which traced up the length of her calves. I smiled
devilishly, eager to do what I did best. I stepped boldly from the shadows and
imagined the lavish ties becoming vines that trapped her legs together and
rooted her to the ground, unable to move.
Take that, dancer girl! I thought
triumphantly.
At first, I was sure it had worked. She
began to falter and slow, and stopped her twirling, but then I realized it was
because she was looking at me—again. I cursed under my breath and immediately
began to withdraw, though part of me wanted desperately to stay and figure
forest, shuffling through the minds of humans sleeping peacefully before me.
There was a disgustingly low amount of
ideas to work with. It was either socks or vampires, neither of which I had
much desire to dip into. It had been a while since I’d made my way near this
town, and with the way things were looking, I didn’t think I’d be returning any
time soon.
I decided to give the place one last
try, my mind sorting through the few remaining mortals, one of which was having
an extremely vivid dream about eating a sandwich. I rolled my eyes and gave a
laugh. Nope, I was done here. I turned and began walking into the woods,
towards the magical path which would take me home to The Glen.
I was almost beyond the barrier when,
suddenly, a dream caught my attention and I froze—my interest aroused. I
relaxed and allowed myself to slip quietly into the fantasy, anticipation
building at the fun I was about to have.
It was a girl, a young woman actually,
dancing by herself in a pool of soft light. She twisted and turned her body
with a grace that mesmerized and held me in place with a force I couldn’t
describe or understand. A classical piano piece was coming from somewhere, but
I was so entranced by her I didn’t look around for the source, allowing her
performance to flood my senses. After a few moments, she finished her beautiful
movement and placed her slippered feet into a ballet style pose, then turned,
looking right at me it seemed. I knew it was rude to stare this way, but
knowing she couldn’t see me, I decided to entertain my odd and inexplicable
desire to know her better. I was so caught up in what I was feeling I didn’t
realize she was starting to act uncomfortable.
“Can I help you?” she asked, softly. I
continued to watch, held captive by her. Her eyebrows raised and she cleared
her throat while I looked around, wondering who she was talking to. I saw no
other character in her dream. “I believe I asked if I could help you with
something.” Her voice was more forceful, almost angry sounding. I started
suddenly as I realized she was talking to me .
“Me?” I asked just to make sure I wasn’t
mistaken. Well, this is a first, I thought.
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms.
“Yes, you. Who else would I be speaking to? Do you see anyone else here?”
I looked around, feeling like an idiot.
I didn’t know what to do. Realizing my stupidity, I quickly withdrew my mind
from hers, stunned at the “conversation” I’d just had. I tried to think of why
my ability to stay hidden while probing another’s awareness hadn’t worked, but
no good reasons came to me.
Had it been a fluke–a one-time thing? I asked myself.
This was completely unprecedented. I analyzed what had happened, and unable to
come to any type of conclusion, I decided to reach out to her again. What’s
the worst that could happen? She’ll still see me and I’ll leave, end of story, I reasoned.
Carefully, I reentered the dream—this
time tip toeing into her imagination. She had resumed her dancing as if nothing
had even happened, spinning with unbelievable balance.
Had she already forgotten about me? I wondered. I
remained quietly in the shadows, trying not to chortle over her possible
attention span problem, thinking of how I should safely test if she could see
me or not.
Suddenly, I spotted her ballet slippers
and the beautiful ties, which traced up the length of her calves. I smiled
devilishly, eager to do what I did best. I stepped boldly from the shadows and
imagined the lavish ties becoming vines that trapped her legs together and
rooted her to the ground, unable to move.
Take that, dancer girl! I thought
triumphantly.
At first, I was sure it had worked. She
began to falter and slow, and stopped her twirling, but then I realized it was
because she was looking at me—again. I cursed under my breath and immediately
began to withdraw, though part of me wanted desperately to stay and figure
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