Some mornings, I wake up standing there, always in the same place deep in this luminescent forest. This has been happening every now and then ever since the end of summer, or rather the beginning of fall. The memories of the dreams I make before waking up in the middle of iridescent trees fade away as soon as I open my eyes. As I try to hold onto the evanescent memories of what felt like regretful dreams, all that remains is but a sense of profound loss.