Endless days in the winter with endless nights in the summer.  Few could tolerate such extremes centered in the ring of mountains, but those still living were unable to leave – their city could only self-sustain month to month.  Wanderings through the streets, or wanderings through the forests, anything to momentarily escape the routine. 

In between two parallel lines she lay, 

Covered in a light coat of snow, 

With her purple hood barely visible. 

His footsteps approached, then passed, as his eyes did not wander from the center ahead. 

They proceeded in the distance before disappearing. 

She was left in the silent snowfall. 

The only sound were those brief steps 

In this lifeless world. 

Her body could not move 

Nor wake. 

A short concrete barrier separated the city street and the dense forest.  He hesitated at a distance, casually glancing to the left, then right, and back center.  The shadows of the trees barely reached his feet, with teasing cold that hid from the sun.  He took a step back, now fully exposed to the sun, and wiggled his toes inside his weathered boots.  Upright posture, he turned his back toward the forest and walked with a confident stride. 

The steps returned, 

Without a shuffle, 

But disappeared 

Quicker than before. 

He abruptly stopped opposite of where he once stood, mid-step with a heel tickling the snow.  A streak of purple painted his eyeline peripheral.  He glanced back and followed the recent line that led to her motionless body on the ground, with features peaking from the settling dots.  Approached with caution, he kneeled beside her and gently touched her covered head 

and the world darkened. 

The once white ground was now black – inverted shadows lined the snow and walls of the worn buildings.  Heat seeped through the porous structures and pressurized the air.  The body had vanished and he rose to his feet, staring at his hand that triggered the inversion.  Shadows from where she once lay pointed to the forest, now frail, with a soft glow peaking from the twisted pillars and crooked fingers.   

Whispers began to approach 

from behind, 

echoing 

and piercing. 

He felt a breath on his neck which jump-started his run toward the dead trees – a hand reached out and pulled him in the forest.  His mouth was immediately covered by a bare hand, while he stumbled until his back hit a tree.  The frail hand held firm as the owner’s face appeared from the shadows; dirt and sweat masked the clean beauty he admired inside the café.  As his eyes settled, she slowly lowered her hand and stepped back into the shadows with her features barely visible under the trees’ woven branches.  He saw her silhouette turn and he stepped forward, mouth agape, ready to speak, but no sound came out; he stumbled on a root, tilting his view of her which continued forward and disappeared in the darkness.  Her familiar scent lingered but eventually faded away and left him alone in the maze of wooden columns.   

Deeper into the clustered pillars he walked, trying to keep a straight line as to not get lost, but the trees caught on to his path and began to twist and turn to keep him inside.  A moment to pause, he looked back to see a wall of trees preventing his escape from the path he once walked.  His shoulders slumped as he sighed, then continued forward once again.  The density of the walls was now apparent as the only sound heard were his steps crunching on dead leaves and scuffing exposed roots; the trees had fully enclosed around him with barely any light to assist his already cautious steps.  A root seemed to reach out from the ground and catch his foot, leaving him to fall on the twisted ground and hit his head on an exposed root.  He lay unconscious. 

Memories