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.
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