Jane… Jane could no more contain the fire in her brain, the monstrous pain for nights forced her out of her body, to hover formless in the lane.
In vain she tried to find herself, remind herself, come home again, but the pain crashed through her in endless waves, a hurricane.
She went higher, further, until she came to stop above the bridge and water of town and looking down was the strangest feeling she could not explain, not flying but leaving.
The dream, a sign, what did it mean? A warning?
Jane… Jane, she left again, she took a train and an aeroplane, above the clouds and to the stars, a very great distance, along a path of least resistance.
She woke in a new place, not the grey green island she knew but a cloudless island of azure blue.
And there, in the purging furnace of orange rock and scalding sun she submerged her brain in antiquity, and the salt waves of the Mediterranean Sea.
She had travelled far in herself and for a long time that was enough to console. But she had forgotten the physical part of the whole, how the work of the mind takes a toll.
Now she knew the dream had been a warning, gentle but urgent, it said, remove yourself, your brain, your spirit, your body, need distance.
Take yourself far, far far away from here so you can remember your conscience is clear.
Jane… Jane, so under siege, she could not see the wood for trees, but for the distance, dreamed then real.
By the time she came back over the sea, back to her green rock of mist and rain, she found herself light and restored again, herself again, whole again.