I was walking through the woods. The ground was covered in deep snow, and the sun hadn’t peeked over the horizon in weeks. If it hadn't been for the green northern lights casting its reflection on the snow, it would have been pitch dark.

They say that the veil between worlds wears thin during the polar night, and that the northern lights might reach down and fetch your spirit if you're not careful. I believed it, at least the first part, but I still strayed to the woods nearly every day.

I can't remember how old I was, but I remember my big, black dog by my side. He scared strangers, but was kind as a lamb.

If the northern lights reach down and fetch you, where does it take you? And what is on the other side of the veil?

We walked past the marshes, past the hill, through the electric fence and to the foot of the mountain range before turning back, me and my dog. All the while I could feel the light above me, dancing wildly. The longer I walked, the heavier it got, and when I was almost home I was so disoriented, overwhelmed and dizzy that I collapsed in the snow. I rolled over onto my back, and suddenly I saw nothing but the lights dancing in the sky.

⟶