I kept walking and reached the valley of sadness – lush green meadows, a rushing brook, a lining of dark trees on both sides. It looked like the proverbial locus amoenus, but I felt invaded by its sadness, which was, perhaps, due to its loneliness. There were no people, no animals to be seen. I kept picking up speed as I walked along, the sadness encroaching on me.
The valley eventually narrowed, and now there were birdcalls and dogs barking in the distance. I had entered the chasm of happiness, advertised by a wooden sign nailed to a pine trunk. The terrain had turned rocky. I was on a winding path that had started to climb between steep red cliffs. And I could hear the grind of cart wheels coming towards me.
– James Steerforth ( © 2008 )
Second contribution to the “sweet dreams and nightmares” series.