Racing, fast and furious, barefooted. Each step punctured by sticks, rocks and leaves and she feels no pain at all. Wind blowing through the white, knit gown she’s wearing and her long, dark hair whipping behind her. She needs to get there! She wears a catholic rosary made with rosewood beads around her neck. The rose scent leaving a trail behind her. She stops 3 feet before the river. Slams herself, stomach and face down on the ground. Her dark hair sliding softly into the river. She takes the crucifix of the rosary, stabs it deeply into the earth and says “don’t let me go in”. Trying badly to melt into the landscape she’s suddenly aware of her physical self. The warm-blooded passion running through her veins. The sweat, tears and the moistness between her legs that convinced her to let the stone go in the first place. And as she lays breathing heavily on the ground in the shape of a cross, she feels her heart thumping wildly against the cold earth. And she prays to mother to give her back the cold stone.