Lost Creek Hollow [m] psalms 91:10

this was not real.
there was no way.
she longs to holler for her wife, to disappear into the brush and gather her woman in her arms, to disappear into her tenderness like a frightened child — but she cannot.
she is a frightened child, now, staring like a deer in headlights at the withered, grayed figure of a man she once knew to be her father. she does not move, does not advance; she wants to vomit when she hears his voice. had he always looked so old?
could she fight him off, now?
shivering, wren straightens her back and stiffens her lip as she dares to ask him: how did you find me?