She had no memories, no name, no thoughts. Just sensations. Beneath and above, all was the same, hills and waves, clouds and sky. Pinpricks of glitter littered the sky and scattered over the waves. She watched the shadows. Wind rocked her. Wind whispered, but what it said she had no idea. She floated, rolled when a cloud nudged her or when the breeze tugged a fold of her robe. Was she cold? Sometimes she thought she might be, but never when the moonlight fell upon her. Stars were cold and scratchy. Birds floated with her, wished her well and she basked in the touch of their soft feathers.
She was old, older than anything else, older than the hills and the sea and the stars. Old but not wise. How could she be wise? Nothing changed except the clouds and the wind. Lower down in the air where she could hear the voice of the waves, rain fell sometimes, or the soft feathery whiteness of snow. Lower down the light was tricky, the shadows danced and mocked, tossing handfuls of moonlight at her and reminding her that…What?
She had tried looking backwards. On the horizon behind her, something followed. Something followed her measured progress but she could not dally to find out what it was. The earth turned and its motion drew her with it. She tried to look backwards but the earth drew her gaze, like her body, onwards. She floated and sighed. The far horizon was always out of reach.
He floated in the dusky air, straining to see ahead, through the lengthening shadows. Below, the hills and the waves were mellow, soft ochre and deep dark blue. Ahead they deepened into something softer and darker, but try as he would, he could never reach it.