The souls came out and flew sideways, flattening out, then through me. They are hard to avoid. My Mother always said, don’t be afraid of them.
Here I am in the bush dodging souls, flying fast, like bats coming out of the night, when I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.
Willow says, hang in there.
They take my breath with them. Someday I’ll ask for it back.