Bad Dreams

Havermouth, Present Time

He watched from the trees…

The girl glanced over her shoulder. She could feel eyes on her, although she couldn’t find any evidence of it. Her eyes searched the trees and found nothing to justify her suspicion. She unbound the cap that held the rope of her hair tight to her head. A woman’s true beauty, these humans seemed to want to hide it under pin and cloth, like they hid so much of their nature.

Suppression, repression, denial, and accusation.

She unravelled the silken skein of her hair, the golden tint of it gleaming in the darkening day as she waded into the river. She wore a chemise – like any maiden of her age and time, she would never entirely bare her skin, even when she was alone… as far as she knew.

The cloth, however, was fine enough to cling to curve and hollow as it sapped up the moisture of the water, leaving nothing to the imagination, pasting transparently to the cup of breast, the rose of nipple, the round of stomach…

He watched, entranced, a