• ‘Come run with me’ you say calmly, motioning with one hand for me to follow you.

    ‘I’ll fall down’ I retort, with hesitation.

    You shrug and smile ‘You’ll like it’.

    I prop myself up from the wet wild grass and take your hand.

    And we dart off.
    Wind, dew-drops, leaves and twigs whip against our skin; our strides release the smell of wet dirt, I breathe in the scent of wood, the grey clouds, the white light, …

    Then suddenly my fingers slip from yours, – I tripped on a tree-root – my palms and knees land on the ground, my body flattens against the foliage, my teeth sink into my lips,… I can taste the blood…

    …but I can also taste the wind; feel the earth, damp under my fingers, the thin cuts breathing across my cheek. I exhale harshly, astounded. A low chuckle begins to break in my throat; then it grows strong and loud and I throw my head back, my voice echoes across the forest. I sigh and look at you.

    You stand, facing me, hand stretched towards me, a gentle smile on your lips, ‘Come. We’ll do it again’.