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A muddy cobblestone track weaves its way through half-dead wildflowers, leading you to the lip of a forest. You take your first steps onto the damp earth, give ear to the mushy crunch of leaves and twigs beneath your feet. The forest seems to inhale and exhale with every step you take. Robins perched in the branches watch you with beady, still eyes. You permit the fog to lead you along a path blanketed by moss. You know there is something alive about this place, sentient and knowing, beckoning you to a place unknown, but wanted. No, not wanted – needed, desperately, leaving you gasping and thirsty.

Girthy church bells bellow in the distance, beckoning you further into the endless greenery. What you’re searching for is so close. You can feel it.

Suddenly, the trees part their branches. You are Moses, drawing back the Red Sea to uncover a dark private. It’s then that you see it: a cathedral as tall as heaven with stained glass windows and grey stone that blends into the endless sky above. Within its wooden doors stands a miss. You know her from your dreams. She is ideal. She smiles at you with the softness of a late spring sunlight and extends her hand to you.

And then, a voice in