Lush

Lush, the grass under her feet sprang back almost as soon as her weight lifted, leaving no sign of her passing. The sun was warm on her tanned arms and face, the only skin exposed from the rough cloth dress. Her passage brushed branches, sending tiny droplets of water soaring through the air, each containing a hundred sparkling rainbows that arced downward to join the dewed dirt.

Her face was flushed like a lover’s, her breath coming in pants and gasps. Warbling cries followed her, each melodic and birdlike. Green blanketed her, the trees reaching around to caress her as she flew through the woodlands. A bird, white and gold, was startled from its perch by her passing, calling out as it flew out above the broad canopy.

The smell of woodsmoke suffused the area, deep and warming. It reminded her of winter nights by the hearth, sitting with her back to her father’s legs, laughing at something her mother said. Her feet pounded the ground, grass becoming dirt becoming sand. The cries changed from warbling to trilling. Splinters flicked from a tree to her right, abruptly separated from the trunk by a larger spike of wood. Another spear soon followed, its rough-hewn head slicing through the air like a fish through a stream. It plummeted short of its target, embedding itself in the sand, an angled monument to early man.

The trees thinned out, then stopped, and before the girl was only the vast expanse of the ocean. The low sun bounced light off of budding waves, each cresting in a swarm of gold before collapsing. The sand was cold beneath her feet, dirtying the front of the dress for brief moments before the collision with the water washed it clean. The chill of the water surprised her despite the early hour and she gasped, a sharp inhalation that shocked goosebumps down her arms. The dress collected water, immediately drooping and wallowing in the shallows. She grasped it as best she could and continued careening into the infinite blue.

A spear flew lazily from a man’s hand, loftily riding the air until it punctured the flesh on her back, slowing down, but not stopping until it jutted also from the front, now painted the red of fresh love. The girl stumbled and fell into the water, soaking the rest of the homespun dress. The trilling returned to warbling, muted as her head dipped beneath the surface. Crackles of seaweed brushed her face gently, welcoming her to its domain. Bubbles streamed from her mouth, each pocket of air carrying rainbows that parodied the dew on the trees and grass. Salt coursed over her tongue, the unmistakable taste that only seawater has, taking the place of the bubbles until the bubbles stopped coming.

The sun slowly ascended, warming the sand below. The sand had just one set of footprints, small marks made by feet excited to plunge into the water beyond. In the water, the waves swelled and collapsed onto the shore, blue in all the places except where they were a deep red. After a while, even the red receded, hiding somewhere out of sight, leaving no sign of her passing.

I've written a ton of depressing things lately, so I wanted to see if I could write something that was just describing happy things. I guess the answer is no?

And yes, dewed is a word. I checked.