A Dream of the Past

He woke from his dream again.

In the dream, trees and grass grew thick around them. He grabbed her, his palm clammy with sweat.

"You still haven't told me your name."

She slipped free with ease and spun away, light-footed as a young deer in the deep mountains.

The hem of her skirt was like a blooming lotus leaf, like rippling water. Somehow it caught his eye and lodged itself in his heart.

He closed his eyes and tried to recall her face and voice. But it was no use.

Still no use.