Her head lay against my chest. Her breathing was even now, better than it was yesterday after she was struck with a goblin arrow. She had made it through the night, when her chances had been slim to none.
She began to stir; her grey eyes opened, meeting mine. "Am I dead?"
"No. You're in Mirkwood, an elven kingdom."
She exhales then. "So is this heaven?"
I could not help but laugh. "If you'd like."
YOU ARE READING
365
Non-FictionI had this idea last night after a few drinks, a pounding headache, and an excessive amount of throat lozenges. In order to inspire me to write more often than I currently do, I am planning to write a new post every day and publish it, allowing me t...
