“There may be a great fire in our hearts, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and passers-by see only a wisp of smoke.” Vincent Van Gogh.
In a body that is failing, a mind wanders two realities. Divided, dying in one and hunted in another. It was never supposed to be this way.
Wayland, having fallen from the path as a unseen force blinked his inamorata out of existence, wakes in a world where life is no longer quite the same.
When the sun sets before nightfall and mist flows like blood, it’s too late to run.