she was in a field. filled with dandelions and dying grass.
beautiful, life and death merging.
the words resounded in her mind as she struggled to differentiate reality and fantasy.
she could feel the familiar, gentle push of the wind.
she wanted to stay and rest in this little sanctuary, rest her weary self.
instead, the wind drove her forward relentlessly.
surrendering was probably a better idea.
until it seemed like she never existed.
<footnote> just some snippets of random scribbles