The boys lonely existance seemed to stretch on forever. Time ceased to mean anything to the boy.
The loneliness and monotony came up to his neck, lapping at him like a stormy ocean. He was drowning in darkness. The boy had never craved the lips of Death as he did now. But Death would not find him in this forest, he knew.
The only comfort he could find was in the thought of seeing the Great Fairy again. Part of him hated her, for causing him all this madness. But he could not completely hate her.
He always dreamt about her. The dream was always the same.The boy closed his eyes and entered the dream he had relived for the past billions of years.
