Flashing in 100 words again based on the pic above. Take a look at my friends' posts when you're finished here. I'm waxing a little creepy today ;-)
I wake from a vivid, intimately familiar dream, flushed and yearning.
“Come,” he whispers, his command filling my mind, and I obey.
Moss from old mother oak hangs low, leaning. She watches.
Mama always said still waters run deep. She knew. Growing up, she told me of the visitors. “This still, lifeless lake connects to the earth’s core, and sometimes visitors come, our paths bound.”
My visitor sends dreams, announcing his intentions, and I go to him, barely stopping to drop my cotton gown.
We never speak aloud, his desires immediately melding with my own. I will never leave this place.