Sleep came to her shortly afterwards. Dreams also came, disquieting dreams.
In them, she spun and spun. She couldn’t tell if she was floating upward or being dragged down.
The constant and confusing rotation eventually fell away to a lightness that was very uncomfortable in its coming. She relaxed and allowed the lightness wash over her being, deep inside her.
When she woke, she realized she was never actually asleep. No, she was back on the bench, awake and looking at the man, who was fiddling with a set of beads.
“Anger isn’t the answer,” he said, without looking up.
The Old Blog in the Desert 
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