February 03, 2009

Pixie girl

A whisper through the trees, her laughter slicing through the air.

The sound of her light steps leaping over the undergrowth and moving towards me, dead sprint.

Is there anywhere I can run? There certainly isn’t anywhere I can hide: she knows this place far better than I do.

No definite place to run, so just keep moving. Anywhere is good.

A delighted giggle and a flash of black hair, a glimpse of the taunting jaguar of a girl sliding through the trees.

I scramble up an embankment, mud burrowing under my fingernails, before taking a tumble down into the stagnant remnants of a stream that lurks on the other side. I freeze for a moment, listening for her.

Nothing. Silence.

No, not silence. A muffled snigger and the soft crunching squelch of leaf-mould sinking beneath the pressure of her knees. She’s right on the other side.


She’s found me.

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