What am I hungry for?
The clouds kiss the tops of the cliffs; the air is rich with mist. And I am filled with longing – for what, I’m not sure.
The shadow under the tree is dark now, its leaves too enclosing. I turn my face back to the road – but as I do, I see a cleft in the rocks, a corridor lined with grass and moss, winding back through the cliffs.
And I feel the hunger.