The Mouth Of A Cave Day!

You broke up when she went into the cave to live the life of a person inside of a mountain. You shouted at her back, "But your publicity firm!" She didn't turn around.

On the drive up to Enchanted Caverns, she was quiet. Staring straight ahead at the road up the mountain. The decision to go to the cave was the result of a dearth of ideas. Too gray for the lake, and you'd been fighting too much to stay inside the cabin. You grabbed the first brochure off the mantelpiece that would get you in the car. She shrugged when you suggested the cave.

As you parked the car, you noticed her arms were bright red where she'd been scratching. It was drizzling, but she left her windbreaker in the passenger seat. You grabbed it and brought it to her. She let it drop underneath her feet and kept on walking.

At the admission window, she didn't stop. The kid selling the tickets began to shout at her until you shoved your money under the glass for the both of you.

You grabbed at her elbow and said, "What's your problem?" She didn't answer. Just kept walking, step by step, up the path to the cave.

There was a tour group gathered at the mouth of the cave. She stepped right into the middle of it, parting the families, and shoved her way out of the thick to continue on her way into the cave. You followed her through all the people, noting their worried expressions in response to the look on her face.

Just at the mouth, you took hold of her by the elbow and she halted. But you could feel her continuing to pull forward, gently. It was like your grip was merely a tangle of weeds that she had to drag herself out of. She had no interest in what was holding her back; she simply wanted to get away from it. You didn't look at her face. It was blanked over, you knew, and you didn't want to see that.

You let go and she walked down into the dark.

Happy The Mouth Of A Cave Day!