An Old Man in a Broken Ship

The forest wraps around Hana like a living thing.Branches cast shadows, the ground is muddy and dark.The cold seeps into her bones.
– “I’m lost…”
Her breath fogs, her hands are frozen.Her eyes are closing when suddenly—
A light in the dark.The spirit balloon floats overhead.A ladder drops down.Hana reaches for it without hesitation,still on her bike as she grabs hold.
Wind whips her hair through the air.The balloon flies over the forest.The sky slowly lightens.
And now—a broken ship in the mist.On a small lake filled by last night’s rain.The air smells of damp and soaked wood.
Hana jumps down, heads for the ship.Its door is ajar. Soft sounds inside—like water.
She steps in quietly.
An old man is hunched over, washing faded clothes in a basin.Long beard, thick glasses,and a small smile—completely unsurprised.
– “You made it at last… Did the cold bother you?”
Hana stares, mouth slightly open.The old man pulls out a warm cloth from the basin and wraps it around her shoulders.
– “You need a cup of steam… and maybe a few tears.”