Time passes and I try to stay calm by taking deep breaths. I focus on
the air as it passes through my lungs and with every breath I can feel
the grip of stress loosening. On the ninth exhale, I realize that all
the flowers in the meadow are breathing along with me. They contract
when I inhale and expand when 1 exhale. Perhaps it is a dance. I am
unsure, but they seem to be mocking me.

Something is not right. The morning sun disappears behind a cloud as a
small blue flower leans over and casts a hateful grin toward me. I have
read about this smile.
It belongs to The Serpent. I have torn a hole through the wall between
the worlds and somehow this beast has slipped through. They warned me on
the radio that this could happen. The panic is returning. “It is not
dying, it is not dying… Turn off your mind” I sing to myself.

A fat bumblebee glows in the morning fog as it slowly navigates through
the plants. Oh, It seems to be steering towards the blue devil. I want
to warn it but courage eludes me. Soon it will be too late. The bee
circles the scowling flower briefly, then calmly lands in the center of
its face. As it connects its tiny mouth to the pistil, I understand that
this is no ordinary insect. It is an angel, here to perform an act of
exorcism. It slurps and slurps and slurps, minutes pass by, then it
suddenly takes off. The flower looks slimy and confused, but the hatred
is gone and somehow I feel love staring back at me through the mist.

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