The cusp between land and sea beckoned to me from the myriad existences gone before. I stood on the Rim of Time, peering into something, yet nothing. Truly, at this point, “thing-ness” had ceased to be and I was thrown into an enigma.
I was blind and saw everything in sweet lucidity. The land was in the grasp of Winter. The forest, hot and steamy, was a haven for living creatures who could not endure the sweltering sultriness of the winter morning. Snow gracefully draped the trees making for a masterful adornment. Nearby, a small pond was ice.
Night came and the sun was a roaring conflagration. I heard a flute singing softly through the cold, mist-shrouded dampness. A gaggle flew over my head, honking a haunting tune. I followed the singing.
Suddenly, I stood in the midst of the ocean waves. The firmness beneath me felt exhilarating. As I stood, gazing into the deep, a giant stood to greet me. I acknowledged and had an epiphany. I realized it was a memory of another life. My winter had truly arrived, and, with it, remorse.
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