Travelers of the luscious UK most often record, remark, and marvel at the rolling hills and plains layered on top of one another, washing over the great island as an ancient ocean would, tumbling and curving over the refined yet random shapes and slopes of the terrain. The mornings among these acres are often greeted by the fog and mist that creep at night and settle just as dust would, yet it sparkles and glistens, waiting for the sun to rise so it may be swept and rinsed away by the overwhelming beams of radiant luminosity. Dawn is the most generous gift from Mother Nature, never failing to come back and pull the shadowed world out of darkness. As the sun peeks over the bumpy horizon each morning, it kindles the particles of mist and dew in all the nooks and cracks clustered between timber, stone, and foliage, as well as pouring its brilliant luster onto the earth, filling every lonely space with a refreshing wash and re-awakening.

And that’s what this troubled soul needed.

Clara struggled to drag her tired legs up a delicately chiseled slope, the ground softly crunching beneath her worn boots. As she trudged, she continuously mumbled under her short breaths that she had to keep pushing herself. She was too afraid to face her consequences, especially in the situation of debt.
She was a coward, always pacing around the circle, never eager to jump in. She kept secrets, neglected morals, and borrowed too much money. The exact amount, she can’t even recall, but it is enough to motivate her into running away.

Her unwashed bangs slid from their place and stuck her cheek. She flicked her head, trying to get rid of them, but ended up having to stop and pull them back with her hand. Her eyes met with the top of the trail, and with a painful sigh, she dropped her head again and pushed herself the very last few yards.
It was certainly a view that even a skittish fox like Clara could appreciate, the way that the lightly-tinted cobalt mountains were painted over each other, their foggy tips fading into the overcast Welsh weather. The flora detailed themselves into the works of the rocky cliffs, balancing themselves as they shivered from the crisp
northern gusts.
Clara dropped her backpack to the ground, mesmerized by the realization that something this great could possibly exist.
Her throat swelled a little, and she tried to swallow, but ended up hunching over in tears. Her body unpredictably shook as she violently gasped between her cries. Seeing as she was alone, she clenched her eyes shut, arched her back and shouted over the stretch of ragged acreage, “Why won’t anybody help me?!”

She sniffed and listened to her raspy echo, taking in the effect of silence, and confirmed that she really was alone in the darkness, despite the approaching sun. She whimpered, “I just don’t want to worry about it anymore.. just make it go away.. hide me..” She slumped, defeated, but a certain ear caught her wish.

Clara jumped with the distant rumbling. Her sobbing ceased, and she thoughtlessly stared into the horizon for a second, feeling dead and emotionless. Her breathing began to calm, but her eyes suddenly widened as she beheld an unbelievable sight. A toneless voice softly cooed “I’ll help you.”

The sun burned white, and grew brighter with a deafening ring. It hysterically threw itself over the peaks of the alpine and landed shakily, deranged and berserk, crawling and clawing its way down the mountain.

The rays of the white sun blew Clara’s eyes out, and she fell back while the brightness roared on. She attempted to stand, holding her arm over her eyes, but the strong whirlwinds of vivid sunshine prevented her from keeping her balance. Her hair was blasted back and washed away with the current, as followed by her clothes, skin, and tissue, until her skeleton screamed and dissipated in the beacon.



Clara, her body intact, floated in the darkness that consumed her so long ago. She lifted her head, trying to study her surroundings, and her eyes landed on a small pinnacle of light. She blinked, untrusting of what she believed had just killed her. She warily made her way over to it, and cradled the small glow in her hands, looking it over. “..What happened..?”


“I brought you a new day.”


Clara jumped back, immediately releasing the glow, trying to shield herself again as it burst open.

She opened her eyes. Sat up. Frantically looked around. She was where she had just left off.
Clara stood, picking up her backpack, and silently headed down the trail. As she got closer to her town, she picked up on strange differences- overgrown plants, extremely high tides in lakes and rivers, and as she emerged from the brush on the outskirts of her town, she stared at a new road, puzzled. It wasn’t a road, but more like a monorail track, yet.. it wasn’t. Her eyes followed the strange, futuristic track and discovered what her town turned into. A large, holographic clock loomed over her now much larger city.

The date was right, September 2nd, but the year read 2072.

The man she owed money to, was certainly dead. Her debt had disappeared. Clara, too, seemed to have disappeared for 60 years, but was only a matter of seconds for her. She dropped to her knees. All of her loved ones were dead, too.

She keeled over, softly whimpering, “This isn’t what I wanted...”

Daughter Dawn cooed back, “I.. I brought you a place, to hide.” Dawn ever-so-generously brought a new day, as she always does. She just wanted to help, by doing the only thing she knows how to do, but it was the wrong way to approach the problem.

Or rather, the ‘lack of approaching'.
Trying to avoid a problem only makes it worse.