He descended every night.

Some nights, the steps were light, and he found himself in a sun dappled wood, surrounded by blue sky and bird song, the stairs nature-made from loam and rock. Other nights, the staircase was cold and dark, a spiraling descent that saw no end in the blackness below, and Paul would guide himself by feeling the damp stone walls, moving slowly, carefully, the only sounds being the echo of his footfall and his shallow breath.

He descended each and every night, and lost himself in a world of dreams, in the blissful arms of Lily, his dream-lover …

I’m so excited to be reading this story at a special event in October! More details to follow!


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