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Her auburn hair was tucked carefully in a little black cap which protected her against the wind of the cold Autumn twilight, yet still, tiny tendrils of it escaped and curled so sweetly against her cotton jacket. It buttoned up the front, leaving exposed the flesh between the buttons. It was a bit small, so it stretched a little. So much the better. He licked his lips trying to taste the salt of her skin.



The bush behind which he was hidden rustled softly, and he kicked at a tabby cat come to share his place. Nothing must distract him. Not now when he was so close. He turned avid eyes back to her, but she was gone. No! Where? Ah there, at the swings. Pale legs stretched out in front of her as she swung to and fro. To and fro. The rhythm was mesmerizing. Striped purple stockings peeked out from underneath black boots and a black short skirt. He licked his lips again. Delicious.



Time to go. He slithered out backwards from the bushes and made his way a little way downhill where he could not be seen. The place was deserted. He knew it wouldn’t be so for long. She always waited for her friends here at this hour, but they always came late. At least ten minutes left then. Hurry.



He brushed the leaves and soil from his trousers and straightened his jacket, touching his crotch painfully as he did so. It was so damn painful! He stifled a moan of desire and took a breath. Gods. The scent of her clean skin came to him on the breeze. How could he smell her sweet body when she was so far away? He imagined her; curling hair snagging on his fingers, tight bottom against his belly. He stifled another groan and squared his shoulders resolutely. It was now or never.



Strolling nonchalantly, hands in his pockets, he made his way to the swings. She looked up at him with wide eyes. So deep, he could drown in them. So wide and innocent. Gods! He came closer.



Then, ‘Serah!’. The spell broke. The moment was over.



Four ten year olds converged on his darling, bubble-gum pink skate-boards tucked under their arms, spiky hair adding to their look of besmirched childhood. He grimaced. Damn. The children shared some candy. His pretty took up her blue-tasselled bike and left with them without a backward glance.



The school-master sighed. Well, he was patient. He could wait till tomorrow.



© Masque

23/10/2005

The light of day peeped timidly from amongst the lofty branches of the enormous trees. The only sound present was the twittering of far away birds. Then, someone came crashing through the lush foliage. The girl ran, lost and terrified, her head swinging from one direction to another, trying to find a break in the monotonous web of trees. Branches had whipped her dark hair to a bird’s nest; it fell carelessly, snagged and tousled over the scuffed and ripped collar of her plain silk dress. Barefoot, she continued running, her breath coming in stunned gasps, trickles of sweat running down her forehead. Her movements were jerky and uncertain as she trudged over the uneven ground, trying not to trip over the hidden roots and jutting stones; yet wonder was hidden within her distraught face. She had never seen a place so dense with life as this. A place so old as to dwarf the most ancient mountains with its age. The forest was immense. The passage of the years could be clearly traced on the barks of the enormous trees. Trees so big as to defy all belief. The wilderness and freedom found in each leaf and thorn was almost palpable to the touch. The girl stopped for a moment and looked around her. The canopy of leaves and branches far above her hardly permitted any light to enter; she could not say what time it was, or for how long she had been in the forest. For that matter, she couldn’t even say where she was; it seemed that she had been there for ages. It felt like forever. And yet, she knew that she had been in other places, very different from the forest, long long ago. Though she couldn’t for the life of her remember where. Or when. Or who she had been then.



Sometimes she slept. Sometimes she dreamt. Rarely still, she remembered something from the dreams; strange, disconnected images that made no sense. And so, she forgot them, until something; the sound of a fox hunting, or the sight of a curiously twisted branch, made her remember something; just a fleeting impression, but something none the less.



And yet, she still ran and ran in the darkened unending forest. Sometimes she thought she was running away from something. However, most of the time, she had the feeling that she was searching for something. Or someone.