by Bluejuice (青液)
Heavy smoke fills the air. The scent is strange; it clings to my clothing, my hair, my skin. It closes itself around me, like a drawn curtain, shutting out things unwanted.
“Welcome. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
The rest of the world doesn’t seem to apply here, as if it were a dream, barely remembered and easily forgotten. A delicate voice asks me the reason for my visit.
I tell him, and for a moment, the world slips back in again. He smiles.
“Come,” he says.
“Come, and forget.”