Her thoughts were a stream that she dared not wade into. If she dipped her toe in she’d feel a tickle, nothing more. But if she were to immerse herself in its waters it would absorb her as if she were a leaf to be carried away. She would melt into its will, no longer distinct but a part of something primal, something bigger than her own sentience.
What land that stream hailed from she did not know. But she sensed its darkness on the horizon, calling her in fearful whispers.
Her thoughts were a stream that she dared not wade into. It was safer on land, on her own two feet.
(Image courtesy of Pixabay)
Written for Pensitivity’s Three Things Challenge #125.