Sosa was uncomfortable.

　　It was only when she tried to move that she understood why.

　　She was not her, she was not Sosa. In this dream, for that`s all it was, Sosa was something else. She was uncomfortable because she kept trying to stand up. Once she accepted that she was not meant to stand up, she felt better.

　　She was back in the trees, where the dark closed around her like a soft blanket. Ahead of her, things moved. She recognised them as people, but in the dream this felt alien to her. She watched them.

　　They moved slowly, some of them climbed trees and collected fruit. Some of them took things from the soil. Others took things from the water. All of them moved beyond the darkness in a place so horribly bright it hurt to look at.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

　　The light moved like glowing smoke, a poison cloud that stung and blinded. It swirled around the village like a living thing. Its presence was enough to burn. She didn`t need to touch it to know it would be agony.

　　She watched the odd beings move about their lives, but one in particular shone so brightly it hurt to look, it hurt to even think about them. In the dream, Sosa cried out in pain, and averted her eyes, blinking against the brightness. She turned back to the dark and hid her face, shielded her eyes in its safety.

　　Behind her something changed, she felt it, like the sun hiding behind a cloud, no longer shining on her skin, no longer burning.

　　When she looked back, the bright one was gone.

　　The mist of light lingered still, but without the bright one it felt thin.

　　Without him, it darkened.

　　Without him, the light began to die.