You yank your head away from her sight and stumble. You suddenly feel drowsy, and the jungle is hazy. Did it become night when you weren’t paying attention? The jungle sounds are deep and deafened as well, as if there’s stuffing in your ears.
But one sound comes through perfectly clear: “You don’t want me to look at you?” the lamia says. You feel her scales snake around the back of her head and you shiver; it’s hard to stand straight, and she helps right you. Regardless, the haze is starting to lift. The lamia pulls your head back towards her.
“Then you look at me.”
You find yourself looking back into her eyes and the haze becomes heavy again—no, not looking back into her eyes, before she’d been looking at you. You didn’t let her look at you, but maybe it’s okay to let yourself look at her and sink into her pretty colors . . . beautiful . . . stunning . . . Do you look at her?
Duth Olec's Cuckoo Cosmos 