An excerpt from the forthcoming 'Immortal Beloved'

She hungers and I smile widely. 

From the corner of my eye I notice a shadowy figure dart from behind the wide berth of a willow tree.  It is her – the girl I have seen before, in countless ages before, always fleeting, glances here and there, a beautiful wraith floating in and out of my tortured consciousness.  She is there, framed in the drooping branches of the willow, by massive green tendrils, her alabaster skin a stark contrast to the lushness of the tree.  Her amber hair flowing behind her in the breeze, faint streaks of blonde and red hues dance from the thick locks.  Her peasant skirt, that of dark blue, envelopes her as it is filled with the breeze, the white chemise blouse clings to her breasts and reveals statuesque arms that are nearly flawless in form.  I am taken aback by the vision, as I have been so many times before and I reach to release Eva from my arm and step towards this visage of beauty that has haunted me.   

Eva starts and squeezes tightly; does she see her?  I wretch her grasp from my arm and push her towards the bunker while turning to the willow behind me.  The girl is still there, smiling, teeth white as ivory, as perfect a smile as one can imagine framed by lips that would quench the thirst of a thousand water starved men.  She extends both of her perfectly shaped arms towards me, the fingers flayed forward in an open, palm up stance, beckoning me to take them into mine; to feel the softness of her skin, to taste the salt of her flesh. 

She rises.  

She rises into the branches of the willow – her arms extended to me – her lips are moving, I can see that as I begin to race towards her.  The rush of the breeze through the branches becomes deafening as I struggle to hear what she is saying as she floats higher into the branches, I am nearly there and yet she is fading from my view!  I reach the base of the tree, looking up I can see her, arms extended, lips parted in a sweet and tender smile; through the breeze I can hear the faint melody of her voice. 

“I can see inside of you.” 

She is gone, swallowed by the sea of green, the roar of the breeze drowning out the song of her voice. I am left, empty and wanting, tortured by her fleeting presence.  Many would believe that I am soulless; I would confess that I am a tortured soul.  Damned to an eternity of solitude and emptiness; wandering the eons as a nomad would wander the desert.  

My desert is time.