Smoke Stories

She danced by the fire as the smoke twisted and twirled into her stories. Deer leaped and falcons soared, weeping willows swayed in the wind, waterfalls roared, and wildflowers bloomed, all a pale gray in the night sky, dissipating into the stars.

“It is not about how the stories end, but how they unfold,” she told us, as the smoke sank low. Mountains with snowy peaks, pine trees, and lakes rose from the smoke. As I walked, my legs cut through the scenery, whisps of smoke dancing through the air. I watched as the night sky swallowed up the stories.