It is summer. The sun so hot and dry he hears the green whisper of leaves. Baptiste runs to Louise. He lifts her tight in his arms, so tight the back of her skirt hikes up to her panties. He spins her around. They are laughing.

“I didn’t think you would find me,” she says. As they kiss Baptiste strokes Louise’s hair and holds it back from her face. The wind blows hard.

He sees the pale, yellow car pull over. The car is stopping for Louise. Louise lifts her hand to Baptiste but he doesn’t wave back to her. “Don’t go, Louise,” he calls. “Please,” he yells. He is pleading. “Don’t leave, Louise.” He sees her duck her head to enter the car. He knows if she leaves him she will not return. “Please, no,” he says. He hears the dry rustle of wind through grass and turns to see that Louise is still standing beside him.

Louise is entering the dance arena. Her hair is wrapped in otter skins and she begins to dance. She is turning in the dance. She is turning toward Baptiste. The drumbeat is the sound of her fast heart, but she dances slowly, slowly toward him. And she is so beautiful the sun blushes behind her, touches the crown of her sleek braided hair. Blue beads glitter on her shoulders. Dance, he whispers to her, don’t stop dancing.

Light was a presence. Light filtered through horsehair blankets covering his face. Light touched his eyelids and he didn’t open his eyes at first. He felt heat in his lungs, a hard-run heat. His heart was slow. For a moment Baptiste thought he might be dying. He opened his eyes to witness the room lighting up slowly, becoming sky, changing in the way a tarp darkens slowly when touched by water, light penetrating the room like a cool shadow. Baptiste could only find comparisons in darkness, things turning dark, things surrendering light to understand the white light that was entering the room.