May 22, 2026

The wind blows past her, moving through her shirt, her hair, her sense of wonderment. She keeps walking along the sidewalk, lining the beachfront, there is no other person is in sight.

A need to stop and watch the same sunset she’s seen a thousand times possesses her, so she listens to her lonely desire and turns her gaze to the sky.

The chill in the wind feels like ice on her burning-hot skin. Even though the weather is cold enough for her to need a jacket, she stands, facing the sun sinking beneath the skyline, in only a t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. Her hair is loose, worn naturally today, and her face is natural as well; this helps the green in her eyes glow. They glow like fireflies in the dusk, a young, thin man notices as he approaches her, stalking towards her like a lion. His steady steps tell her he is determined to seize the moment.

She gasps as she turns towards him, sighing in relief, “Oh, it’s only you.” She says, holding out her arms for a hug.

“I didn’t recognize your presence,” she says, “I thought you were a straggler trying to come and grab my purse or something.” Her eyes fall to the floor as she scratches her head, confused at her own fear. “I am sorry for being afraid the first time we met.”

She doesn’t know where this confession comes from: “I am just used to more negative situations playing out. I didn’t expect to come across someone like you. I could feel you in a room, and I don’t understand yet what this means.” The words pool out of her like water; she does not know where they come from or why she feels compelled to say them.

“I guess I made you an enemy before you were one,” She continues. “Can we start over?” She says, finishing her spiel. He reaches his hand out, smiling from ear to ear, “Sure, of course we can. I’m not angry with you for being cautious with a strange man approaching you at night.” He says, reassuring her. “You should be careful, it is just the nature of the world, not everyone is a friend.” He says blatantly, looking out at the moon lighting up the sky, casting its reflection on the flat, still waters. “It looks like silver,” he says to her, pointing out the ocean view only a few feet ahead of them, “or platinum.”

“I guess you’re right, the metallic reflection of the moon on the water creates that effect, it is truly lovely.” She inhales and exhales deeply now, focusing on the view once more. He gives her a side hug, “We should meet here more often.”

“Where?” She asks.

“In this more hopeful place.” He says. He pauses to appreciate the starry night, even though the movement of the world all around him seems to be ever flowing, he can pause in her presence and see the world, soft and still, the milky moon hanging above the steel cut ocean, the soft porcelain of her skin, the deep blue skies with twinkling stars ahead and his own long, black coat hanging like a sort of blanket against the whistling wind.

“There’s nothing wrong with questioning those who approach you.” He says. “Keep your discernment close to your heart.” She sees the movement in the water, then the rippling waves moving to a soft, slow frequency, the light radiating from the moon, and the way her long, wavy hair dances with the breeze, heavy yet effortless.

“I can’t wait for dawn,” she says. “I have so much to do when the morning finally comes.” The man morphs into a grey wolf, then howls as the moon lowers itself even further on the horizon. When she looks back at the wolf, he is gone, but a wildness in her heart remains, this part of herself now fully integrated and recognized.

“Thank you,” she whispers, “for helping me see.”

From One Wandering Soul to Another,

Nicole Asbjorn