• I was walking down a path just barely visible against the onyx black surrounding. Blood was running from a cut on my brow, and a scrape on my cheek. I walked at a fast pace down the barely cleared line of the dirt reject of a road. I could barely see the moon as there was a thick roof of leaves above my head, resulting in the incredible amount of darkness.
    I had fell off my bike into the ravine parallel to me, nearly a mile ago. I decided to take the path I had ridden down several times before, but the pitch black had cut my view, leading me down a road I don't think even the people who cleared it knew where it stopped. I didn't mind. I had no intention of returning home, or to civilization for that matter. My guitar in tow with me, I just wanted a silent place to play. And it was awarded to me. Ahead in a clearing, down a slope to the bubbling stream, I knew it would be a perfect spot to flaunt my hard labor...
    The crimson sting of the blood swept into my eyes, but no matter, I only need ears and hands to play. I had sat down , and started tuning the fine piece of woodwork. Albeit the pain of the cuts, I felt a calm that I had never before. Truly a spot to remember.
    I went in pace to the stream, a mutual sensation accompanied by the offbeat wind rustling.
    Almost as if they meant to start for me...

    I sensed a faint movement in the water, and opened my eyes.
    A sharp pain nagged them, so I put the guitar on top of the case and stumbled towards the stream to clean them out.
    I dipped my hands in the luke-warm water and splashed it in my eyes.
    I opened them.
    And a face was staring right back at me, too close for comfort.
    As anybody would do, I fell back as the figure lurched forward. It stood up, revealing a girlish body and long, dark hair. She crept up on me, slowly and with what would be incredible gracefulness, if she were water herself. As I lay captivated by the beauty, she went to my side, again we were face to face. Her soft breath, hot and humid, washed over me as if encompassed in a jet stream. Oddly enough aside the encounter, she had rough scales under her eyes, and feathery antennae falling with her hair.

    "I love your music," she coolly breathed.

    "Who are you," I abruptly stated, "More importantly, what are you?"

    "I am what I am. That is, I am what you think me to be. I could be here, or not. I want to be here, but that is for you to decide."

    "Were you the one that started for me?"

    "Of course, who would not want to start for talent like you?"

    "How could you know the signature e-minor tuning scale I play in? I haven't seen or heard anybody play anything in it asides me."

    "I could tell when you tuned your guitar."

    "How long have you been watching me?

    "Since you started coming down this way. I noticed your talent on your guitar."

    "Was this path of your design? I had never seen it before... ever..."

    "Yes, yes I did make you crash, and yes, I did lead you down this track. I've been wanting to play with a performer of your caliber for quite a while."

    I was wondering possibly how this chance encounter could have occurred. I was wondering how the many times I passed, she stared at me, watched me from the water.

    "Well, what is your answer?"

    I was looking back on my less than exciting life. My bland routine.
    I had to say something.

    "Let's have another go."