She lay there on the soft grass, as the world moved in cathartic slowness around her. Experience focused into a narrow cone of awareness, channeling a sense of peaceful solitude into her perceptions. Around this lush mound towering claws of the earth jutted out of the ground, so sheer, so tall, that their very summits were shrouded in impenetrable mist.
These were the peaks of her imagination, so distant that it would take a day on a jeep to reach the base of these colossal pinnacles, yet near as the intimate touch of the tendrils of her mind. White snow and char-coloured rock upon icy blue sky, a field of mountains piling into the faraway horizon - that was what she had come to love, a representation of the dreams that had infused her soul with yearning.
So she lies, supine, on the soft grass, with the artifices of her mind's eye arrayed around her, and she is at peace. And the mountains become sentinels to guard her, she who has spent her life studying them, loving them, as children of her mind.
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Another experimental piece.
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