"A writer, huh," asked the brunette, seated across the cafe table. A faint breeze through the open window stirred loose a lock of hair that brushed against her neck before she tucked it behind an ear. Daniel finished a sip of his tea and replied eloquently. "Huh?" "You're a writer. That's what your bio said, anyway. What sort of things do you write?" Sunlight glinted off the corner of her glasses, framing green eyes that peered at him with curiosity. "Oh, yeah. Mostly articles for a news website. Reporting on viral videos, some tech stuff. I'm trying to do more independently but it's hard to get published."

"That's cool. You must have all kinds of free time, being able to work on your own schedule and everything." She took a drink of her latte, white foam marking a faint mustache on her upper lip. It was cute. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, the deadlines can be pretty rough. Sometimes I'm up for hours trying to finish a story while the news is fresh. Er, what about you?"

"Between my class schedule and my parents visiting every weekend, it can be hard to find time. It's nice to get out like this, though. Maybe we can do it again sometime?" Rose smiled at him, and Daniel felt his face heat. "Yeah, totally."

- - -

Daniel's face itched. One side felt pleasantly warm, and the other was tickled by a cool breeze. The itch seemed isolated to a point on his forehead and, as he focused on it, seemed to travel towards his nose. His eyes slid open and squinted in the brightness. Disturbed by the motion, a butterfly lifted off his nose and sought a more stable perch on a nearby blossom. Sunlight lanced through thick branches overhead and Daniel shifted his head slightly to the left to avoid the beam currently in his eye. The boughs were densely covered in dark-green foliage, dancing gently in the wind, and through the gaps he could see small clouds in the brilliant blue sky. The drone of insects competed softly with the sound of rustling leaves, and Daniel's nose twitched at the presence of pollen mixed with floral perfume.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

Oddly, his head didn't hurt. From everything he'd read, Daniel suspected that after being abducted, knocked out, and dumped here, wherever here was, he would have quite the headache. On the contrary, he felt rather well. No aches or pains, although the ground wasn't the most comfortable, and even the knot of tension he'd been carrying in his neck throughout last night's conversation had departed. He felt rested. Peaceful. Although he vividly remembered signing the divorce papers and his subsequent kidnapping, for a moment or two he lay still, soaking in the sun and breathing deeply the fresh air. The butterfly returned, hovering above his face as if questioning the lack of nectar in this fleshy flower. About the width of his hand, its wings were a pale blue, fading to purple towards the tips. Eventually it left, and Daniel sat up, getting a better view of his surroundings.

He was in some sort of meadow, beneath a large tree. The trunk was thick enough that, were Daniel tempted to hug it, he didn't think his arms would wrap all the way around. The bark was rough, further discouraging any such attempt, and a pale brown. While it didn't seem to be more than a couple stories tall, the branches were sturdy and spread quite far in each direction. Before him, a grassland interspersed with flowers sloped gently down towards a distant treeline. Behind, past the tree, was a similarly grassy upward slope which met the sky perhaps sixty yards away. To his left, a cluster of low bushes lined the edge of a small gully, and, to his right, the slope jutted more sharply into exposed stone and a low overhang. In no direction did he see a demonic cab driver, tire tracks, or any sign of civilization.