Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She would often sit by a little stream, on the low-slung bough of an ancient oak. Many hours she would spend in silence and stillness, watching the murmuring water cascade between the stones and the swaying reeds. On the other side of the stream, the forbidden lands stretched towards the horizon, guarded by a ferocious bull with glowing red eyes and mighty, razor sharp horns. But as long as she never set foot past the stream, the beast would not threaten her. The months turned into years, and with the passage of time, the girl's curiosity about the horizon deepened as surely as her feet would outgrow each pair of new shoes. Curiosity became longing. Longing became obsession. But still, the beast roamed the lands beyond. Until one night, when she lay down to sleep, and dreamed. The girl found herself beside the stream once more, where the gentle oak leaned over the water, a maiden of legend pouring gifts from her cornucopia. The tree groaned and bent further forward still, and the highest branches, wreathed in a thousand stars, beckoned. The girl stretched out her hand. The earth fell away beneath her. She rose above the stream, above the reeds, above the noble oak. The wind sang about her, and her heart grew light with joy. Far below, the red-eyed bull stormed across the land, its terrible horns carved furrows through the earth, and its thunderous roar echoed across the sky. But the beast seemed smaller now. Beyond it, the forbidden lands rolled away in great green waves towards the place where earth and sky embraced. And then the girl laughed. For the first time in all her years, there was nothing between herself and the horizon. She flew. #myth #amwriting #fiction #shortstory