The street was empty, void of cars and people and life. The thin mist in the air parted ever so gently as I walked through, closing in again behind me as if blocking my return.

That’s when I saw her. A woman, strangely bright amidst the surrounding darkness, almost blinding, staring into me with eyes that could shatter glass. Her long yellow dress and black locks of hair were undisturbed by the breeze.

“Do you dream?” she asked me.

“I did once, but I’ve been awake for so long. I’ve no time to dream,” I said. She seemed to fade a little with those words. I could feel her sadness in the air, and it stung my eyes.

“Will you come with me?” she asked, holding out her arms. They looked so warm, so inviting.

“Where?”

“Does it matter?”

The cracked sidewalk pushed up against my feet. My hand instinctively reached out to the filthy cement wall beside me, and I glanced at my surroundings. Everything was grey. Grey buildings, grey sky, and grey newspapers abandoned on the street. Why was it so hard to let go?

I pulled my hand back from the wall and rubbed the grime between my thumb and fingers. It was the dirt of days passed and lives lived. Other peoples’ lives and other peoples’ days. My life was tidy. It left no mess behind. It left no trace.

I looked up to meet her gaze and gave a slight nod.

Her dress started to flap wildly around her, as if we were standing in a hurricane I couldn’t feel. She laughed heartily as her hair, that black shining hair, grew longer and longer, creeping along the wall and across the sidewalk until it was wrapping itself around my legs and arms. I could feel each strand tightening around me as it pulled itself up my chest and over my head. My last vision before the hair closed over my eyes was of her, standing radiant in the darkness, so bright it hurt.

And it smelled of peaches.