Fireflies flickered in the darkness like sputtering candles. The man slept deeply in the treetops, unaware of anything but the sweetness of his dreams. Great clouds of mist swept along the ground, rolling in like a silent storm. The fog did not rise to his level, so he was unaware of its chill.
The man turned over under his quilts, smiling reflexively in his sleep. Far away, at the fringes of his world, a wall of mist quivered and pushed in. Another inch of his world swallowed. How sweet is the sleep of innocence when we can block out the worst of existence for a brief moment.
The mist paused on the ground under his tree as if listening. It gathered around the trunk and tried to rise but something pushed it back down. It shimmered with deep frustration and then, unable to do anything else, it crept on.
Not today. But soon.
*******************************************************************************
The adventure is just starting!
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