13 Nov 97 | Trees with laser sharpened edges: The box of beautiful lie

I was about to reach the top of that tree. At that moment I saw him,

helplessly trying to snatch hold my feet. He was shouting harshly without

noticing the engulfing fog. I took deep breaths,

as it was getting freezing cold and clutched tightly to the branch.

He couldn’t catch me. Instead fog, with its thousands of tiny,

cold droplets surrounded him. Little sounds ceased and I remained motionless.

    The white steam cleared away in seconds…

and his body fell over the slippery ground like some wet blanket.

He had a warm smile, and his eyes reflected the towering old trees surrounding us.

     Rainwater started washing him away.

I remained clinging to that tree, freezing blue with dry fear.