I don't remember everything that happened, and I'm looking forward to the tale. But I know, I feel, that it was good. Even if I did die. It was a damn excellent dream.
You know how, when you dream, sometimes you don't remember anything but what kind of dream it was? Frightening or hilarious or just strange? How there's only the feeling of it like a ghost in your mind?
I say, 'But he does not have you,' and I kiss her through the orchard gate. It's a kiss I have longed to take. A kiss that gently tugs at Astrid's seething power, at the wildness inside both of us. It's sweet and feels like a confession: I love her.
