It struck me that all I had to do was turn back. And when I turn, I blink and wet my eyes. The beach is clear, the sun is a furnace. The day is fine but in my hand I hold a gun and fire. The man falls down and I turn again, and still the beach looks quite the same.

It struck me then that instead I could have walked away, thought no more about it. The glints of sun that blinded me, I should have thanked them for hiding her. I walked away, this time through the woods. I blink again but not for eyes that were dry. This time no blood was shed, and I never returned again. In moments since the sun blinds me still; the place we met, the trip we took, those dark old woods. I never could go back, but in my mind it’s quite the same.

It struck me then, there may be something more. I’ve walked along inside a seashell whose spirals guided me. It’s tried to show me, but nothing’s changed. It was in that dungeon I locked myself, left no trail, and fell completely. It’s time now I go on my own. I’ll blink until the woods are gone. Until there’s nothing that brings reminding of anything that’s not my own.