autumninnewyork: (dreamer)
[personal profile] autumninnewyork
Central Park could itself seem enchanted under the right circumstances. The little slip of a woman sat curled upon a blanket; book in hand, reading of other long-ago enchantments of a more ethereal kind. The fading light of day didn’t register with Charlotte until she could no longer read the words of one William Shakespeare on the pages before her.

So lost had she been in the humorous (and tragic) tale of Oberon and Tatiana, the foolish and mischievous Puck and the mortals caught in between that she completely lost track of time. Paid little attention to the further chilling of the cold air as well, huddled into her winter coat as she was.

It was then that she saw it, the flickering light, just beyond the wintergreen shrubbery. It almost looked as if someone had left a strand of white Christmas lights tangled amongst the plants with the way it twinkled. Almost but not quite as there were only two, maybe three of these lights that Charlotte could see.

With childish intrigue that didn’t seem out of place for the young woman, sometimes described as a waif or a pixie, she left her blanket behind and crept towards the light. And then she heard it, a faint whisper. A tinkling that might have been laughter, if lights could laugh. Then they moved. Leapt further into the brush. Charlotte followed.

This little game went on for some time, getting closer then finding she was not close at all. So long in fact, that Charlotte eventually stopped and wondered when Central Park had become so wood-like and dense with foliage. The trees didn’t look right: they weren’t the oaks and alders she was used to seeing. No paths through the undergrowth and there wasn’t a bench in sight.

The very air

And the young woman gasped. There were suddenly more than a dozen of these twinkling lights, two three dozen…the trees filled with them. She realized she was lost.


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January 2009

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