A DEATH & AN ENTRANCE
…Llyn Fawr, ‘Great Lake’, they called it. She took for granted the ancientness of that place, aged by millennia, because she possessed neither the memory nor interest; she thought history a tiring and useless subject. She didn’t like to think that ‘inheritance’ of any kind existed at all. She preferred independence in all things, even from the past.
She had rarely come here. The lake was banked on one side by an imposing crag, cliffs sloping into water that was almost completely still since the wind and the rain had both passed-on. With conifers set back from it her view was unobscured and she was grateful to see she was completely alone. The only tall figures were the trees at the edges and she dearly appreciated her solitude when she came to undress.
Exhausted, she dropped to her knees unthinkingly and they clanged upon a harsh blanket of broken, natural slate. By now she no longer had thoughts for comfort; she had reached such a level of malaise that it would only do to embrace it. Her thoughts were fixed solely on washing herself and wringing out her leggings…
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