Nineteen

Ferrah-

Monica and I talk as we walk through the woods towards the lake, avoiding the small clearing lined with fairy stools because she knows what usually happens when ever I’m close to it.

We laugh and giggle like long time friends as we reach the lakes beach.

The sun is high and warm in the sky, the lake is peaceful and clear almost glass like as it sets motionless in the middle of tall Douglas fur trees flanking its surroundings. Sand and pebbles make up the wide beach and we set out to make ourselves comfortable near a fallen log that gives enough shade to keep us out of the sun.

Monica lays out on her towel and cracks open her book and starts to dive into the words of printed words and I walk to the lakes edge and walk along it with my feet in the water, watching as the ripples from my movements dance across its surface.

“Ferrrrahh” I hear whispered in the wind, my names drawled out as who ever it is calls out to me. The voice familiar but also not.

It calls to me in the wind and