She was free.

The first thing she noticed was the sky. It stretched as far as she could see, spreading from the furthest corners of her eyes in front of her, washed-out blue and smooth like crystal. She felt as if she could see forever in that sky, everything bright and clear, the sun a starburst of white light. Time itself paid it no attention. And from that sky came the crispness of the air, like the faintest beginnings of autumn, a relief from the heat of summer that warned of the promise of winter. The tall grass that brushed her hips was still green, spreading in all directions just as the sky; they met it at the horizon like the seams of a quilt, grass and sky, and beneath her bare feet, the ground was cool, as if she were standing ankle-deep in the waters of a refreshing stream.

Spreading her fingers, she'd brushed her palms over the tips of the tall grass, every blade tracing little secrets against her skin with each step she took, idle strides taking her nowhere in this endless field. After a time she couldn't measure, she stopped in the same place she had started and lifted her face back to the sky, towards the sunshine, letting it collect on her folded lashes as the wind teased her long white hair, beckoning her forward with gentle pulls to the folds of her champagne dress. She felt nothing: there was no heat from the sunshine in which she basked, the white light as light and crisp as the air. She felt nothing of her body either, of the weight or tiny aches so inconsequential, they were hardly even noticed. Each breath was effortless, a subtle swell in her breast.

Just outside the corners of her vision, like a rustle of grass a child laughs, the sound arcing into a shriek of joy. To her left, the faintest ghost of a child dashes through the grassy jungle, eyes alight with glee as she glances over her shoulder. Another child chases her, not far behind, and she shrieks again in delighted terror as he begins to catch up, running faster in a futile attempt at escape.

Like mist, or fading smoke, the child begins to fade, as if the slightest breath of wind is enough to dissipate it. The white breath-like tendrils churn, tumbling on itself, spreading thinner and thinner as the child's voice grows distant. In its stead, a lithe form stretches from the grass, graceful in a way the child could never be. Her face is smiling as she looks over her shoulder like the child fleeing her playmate, but her attempted escape is an obvious bluff. As the man appears, she twists to face him at the last moment, his hands settling on her hips to lift her effortlessly, the ghostly whispers dissipating into nothingness as they spin.

She watches until the last breath of wind has caught the residue of mist, spreading the vision to the corners of the sky.

Beneath her fingertips, the grass rustles gently with that same breath of wind, trying to catch her attention. Lifting her eyes, she tilts her head to the right, to where whorls of white smoke curl into familiar shapes. A long white bench unfolds like a blanket, the familiar build of the cafeteria table surrounded by translucent memories. On the bench, Ennea and Madison sit close together, temples touching as they peer at the phones in their hands, their laughs soft like the tinkle of bells. Perched at the edge, Jerry strummed a guitar, singing happily along to the clear, humming notes. The slightest motion drew her attention to where Candace teased a giggling Cass, smile impish as she hip-checked her. Harrison and Jordan framed Rep's larger form, the man indulging enthusiastically in recently-discovered s'mores, while Robert's unmistakable profile leaned across the table towards a certain blonde, making pouty faces at Clarice.

She watched this for a while, the sweet hallucination, with the slightest of smiles, the fondness of a forgotten memory. But the smile faded, drifting unnoticed from her face, and her eyes saw past it, to where the grass and sky went on forever. Again the blades of grass traced whispers on her palms as she walked, and the ghosts dissipated around her, broken by her soft exhaled breath.

Somewhere behind her she heard her name called softly, beckoning. Glancing over her shoulder, she searched for it, pale blue eyes so like that washed-out sky seeking that which wanted her, finding nothing.

For an immeasurable span of time, she waited in vain, until her eyes turned sad, wistful from decisions made and bridges burned. She let them drop, her gaze turned distant with etched thoughtfulness, until she smiled a smile that didn't touch her eyes.

Turning, she continued walking.