[ IP ] A Meeting

I meet her here every year and every year I feel like I know less and less. She smiles as we stand on the lonely trail, the water crashing down not that far away. The sunset has painted the sky in all shades of pink and purple and her eyes almost seem to glow with the same vibrancy. She takes her spot, leaning on the railing and looking down into the stream below and, as usual, I join her. 
 
 It ’ s silent for a while, just the sound of the crashing water from the waterfall. Despite the beauty, I watch her out of the corner of my eye. She looks so happy, long hair trailing down her back. I wonder what she ’ s like away from the waterfall, for the rest of the year that I don ’ t see her. She knew a hell of a lot more about me than I knew about her. 
 
 She had said that she lives out in the countryside, somewhere nearby. There isn ’ t a house for miles. 
 
 She claimed that she looked a little weird normally. I can ’ t pick up a hint of makeup on her face. 
 
 The strangest was the assertion about her father, who she made a vague statement about, something along the lines of keeping her away from people. 
 
 She always seemed sad when she left, as if I was the only contact she would get until that next year would come. I don ’ t even know why I come back year after year. I had been born and raised in a nearby town, had played here when there had been some trees and plants growing in the area. More than just the green, green grass. Iceland was a hard place to grow things. 
 
 “ It ’ s lovely. ” I state, as usual. 
 
 “ It always is. ” She smiles a little more. And then she does the unusual, leaning up and pressing a soft, gentle kiss to my cheek and returns to her original position. I ’ ve lost my train of thought, the normal conversation we usually have vanishing into thin air. I make a few noises, attempting to pluck ideas out but they vanish as well. 
 
 “ I… um… ahm… ” She gives a small tittering laugh and I gather my courage, grasping at the only straw that my mind offers me. “ Can we get coffee or dinner or, um… something? ” She falls quiet for a while, eyes still trained on the waterfall before they move to rest on me. 
 
 “ Maybe. ” Her smile ’ s turned soft and sad and then she turns to leave, brushing past me and leaving me staring at thin air. I whirl around after getting over my shock to find that she ’ s simply vanished. The trail is empty as it gets darker, the small solar-powered lights that line the path beginning to come on. A deep shiver runs through me and even though I ’ m frightened, I want next year to come quickly. 
 
 As I leave, I pause to look up the hillside towards the smaller waterfall. I can see the little hills and rocks, a small álfhól pressed against one of the larger rocks. I could barely make out the violet shade coloring the elf house in the darkening night and I quickly hurry on. Even though I was grown, there was still that sensation that you didn ’ t want to be in the ‘ wilds ’ after dark.
