I ran. A path seemed to open before me into the wood, some...

I ran. A path seemed to open before me into the wood, some small track to a little town, a forgotten village.

I sensed the watcher, keeping pace with me in the thickening forest, maneuvering silently through the clasping vines, the slapping branches and heavy windfall logs. She was close to me at times.

For it was a woman: somehow I sensed that already. A furtive one who moved without the need to prove her strength, a specter in the leaves, a faint scent of lavender and mint.

— from the forthcoming novel Sinful Folk

PHOTO:

Illustration from darkface: The Path to Nowhere by ~Stridsberg