She felt the solitude; she was alone and content to be so. She could walk for hours if she wanted to, without finding another soul. In a clearing in the dark woods grew a special tree, ancient and distorted, its wise old boughs now a large hand, enticing, beckoning.
She silently climbed onto its palm and slowly eased her legs either side of a thick branch, a large mossy finger now pressing into her. She abandoned herself to the sensuality of her position. The sticky heat of the day endured and as she lay there, gasping the warm air, she felt the first drops of perspiration trickling down her flesh.