I once saw light flickering through leaves of a tree, a tree not like the others on the mountain, and would swear I saw a dryad dance amongst the branches, who turned into a wren and flitted away. I saw a pale nymph dancing, and she turned into a girl with short hair and whose lips taste of red wine. Rain running sideways like the river it once was, and a mountain basin turn from green, yellow, gold and silver to a world of white, blue and infinity. Through such eyes I see this world, all that I see now merely a thin shade over the layers that came before it.
Everyone has bad dates. BAD dates. This is a fact of life as we know it, and it has no doubt become more prevalent in the years since the advent of that joyous thing called the internet. Yeah, guess where this date starts.