This particular afternoon, during the monk’s walk, he saw a young woman sitting on the bench by the well. Her head was down, and her hands lay like dead birds in the folds of her dress. She did not look up, though she heard his soft feet on the dry ground and saw the burgundy hem of his robe.
Illustration for “Lost Cantos of the Ouroboros”. DAZ Studio, Carrara, Bryce, Hexagon and Photoshop.