As a hazy light filters through the trees, I see a little figure sitting in a small boat.

The boat rocks gently while the water whispers beneath it. I watch the little figure sit stonily in the boat. Quietly pushing my oars through the water, I glide just a bit closer to the majestic scene.

As though aware of my presence, the figure turns. It’s a stout woman, standing not so tall. Despite her stunted height, her presence seems to be everywhere at once. Her thin lips tug at the corners into a welcoming smile.

She presses her palms together at her chest and bows towards me. Then, she begins to preform an delicate, whispy dance. Her skirts and arms float around her and she sways and twirls slowly. As she does so, a breeze blows through, rustling the reeds and prompting the water to ripple. As if encouraged by this, the petite woman continues to dance.

I watch, enraptured, as the nature around us begins to seemingly react to her movements. Then, abruptly, she comes to a soft pause. The breeze dies down and the reeds stop shifting. The only thing you can hear is the burbling of the water.

“Come closer, daughter,” she says, her soothing voice barely reaching across to me.

Intrigued, I row closer. Soon, our boats touch at the bows. She unfolds her arms and extends them towards me. I take her hands and she begins to sway.

“Listen to the water. She speaks of wonderful things,” the woman whispers to me, eyes shut.

I let my eyelids flutter shut as well, and begin to sway in sync with her. I concentrate on listening to the water running beneath us.

I hear whispers, words woven together, that speak of paradise and eternal love and joy. I hear stories of anguish that morph into stories of triumph. A passive smile moves over my features to mirror the woman in front of me.

I let out a small sigh and open my eyes. But I’m alone on the river.