Time

    The sky was open and vast and black, as if a great shadow had cast itself over the Earth. Not a cloud seen in the sky. What was visible, however, was a stunning array of blinding orbs. Some hard, standing strong, watching while others were soaring through the inky blackness. The Earth below was just as magnificent. What was resting underneath at this particular moment was an enormous woodland. And with this sky as an aid, the trees were pitch black, not a shred of color, just darkness. There was a town to the South: small and stout and very British. I was miles away from the nearest city. Those are always my least favorite, the long walks, too much effort for just one person.

    There was a path in the trees, going to some old, decrepit house. A girl walked this path. No, walking isn't the proper word; what is it? Sprinting. Fighting to keep her head above water. Why was she running? Simple, there was an angry mob twenty paces behind her. All she needed was time. You know, torches, pitchforks, the whole nine yards.

    Now, the girl was in front, then the angry mob, and I took up the rear. After a few minutes, when she was able to get slightly ahead, she found her way to the dilapidated cabin. The door was open, so she let herself in and shut the door behind her. I'm sure she wanted any form of sanctuary she could get, even if it was temporary. The mob was closing in, but for a moment, just a moment; she felt a sliver of safety in the deafening silence of the tiny home. Unfortunately for her, that peace was broken by the first crash of fisted torch on hard wood. A second. A third. The young lady backed against the furthest wall from the door. She let her body fall, then leaned back, using her only friend left in the world, the wall, as support, and waited. Waited for what she knew was coming. A fourth. Finally, the door cracked under the force of the blow. A fifth. And a firm heel kick to finish it off.

    The girl saw several men and women waiting on the other side, and I can say with great certainty that none had come to share a spot of tea. The man in front had a bloodied knuckle from where he'd pounded in the door. She knew there was no more running. He stepped inside. No more time. At that moment, the young lady shut her eyes tight and clasped her ears in her hands. Then... Silence. That same silence that had haunted her just moments before. She held her breath for a moment and let it go. She left the comfort of darkness and opened her eyes. She looked up. In the pathetic excuse for a wooden cabin, there was no crowd, no bloodied man, no torches, no pitchforks. Just me.

    We stared into each other's eyes for just a moment. I took a few steps closer until I was just in front of her. She watched intently as I gave her a gentle smile. Then, I offered her my hand.

    "Don't be afraid." And she went to me.