cecily reached the bend in the river where the old yew tree spread its melancholy shade over weary wanderers.
but william was not there.
where could he be?
cecily did not doubt for one minute that he would keep their rendezvous.
how william would laugh when cecily told him of her spirited performance expressing outrage at poor emily.
poor innocent emily who would surely never know the flaming passion cecily and william shared for each other.
suddenly cecily felt very tired.
she had had a long day and the walk in the hot sun had fatigued her more than she had expected.
she lay down under the old yew tree and fell asleep.
she dreamed that she turned into a turtle dove and william turned into a raven.
they flew across a vast nameless ocean.
there was a single cloud in the sky.
no matter how long the flew they never seemed to get closer to it.
the cloud was white, then turned pink, then gold, but they never got closer to it.
or saw any land, even the smallest island.
or saw a ship.
the sun turned red.
and fell over the horizon.
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