Steps, once unbound, faltered as a figure came to her sight. A man, but was he real or imagined? Her hair, caught in the wind’s dance, lashed against her back as if urging her forward. She succumbed and walked closer. The form became clear. He was dressed in a faded shirt and cargo pants rolled up to his thighs. He held a makeshift spear in one hand, composed of a knife tied to a stick. A net was in his other. Still a figment, she wondered, or did clarity come hand in hand with reality.
