Sublimity

"Run on, sweet child" said he, touching my cheek and swiftly running ahead. "I'll watch your step from up front and from behind and from all sides. Trust me." "No!" she said angrily, extricating from his touch. She was not one to need male protection. And certainly not now, when she wanted to prove herself.
"Yes!" he insisted. "You'll need to trust me." She got even angrier over such an attitude. No way that she would give in now.
"Give me a reason", she thought, but stumbling on firmly said "I won't."

He did not reply immediately, but stopped and calmed his face. All trace of emotion gone from it; a map to read according to your liking. "Please do" he said calmly "you'll need to trust me to get out of this."

It made sense, even though she hated the situation. Breathing hard, her resistance suddenly long gone, she focused on keeping up.
There were branches and she hurt her legs. He did not seem to notice, but grabbed her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. All his weight pressed her down and pressed her ankles more into the thorns. Did he not notice? But in an instant he was gone from sight.

"I'm not within his radius anymore", she thought with rising fear and the pain in her feet. "Wherever is he now?" she thought, starting to panic. She saw him far ahead, standing on a hill. He did not move nor look down. On the contrary, he was looking up at the skies! She realised what he was doing. As if made of stone, he stood and waited. He consulted the stars holding a secret council to which she would never have access. A sudden understanding met his face. It seemed as if he had heard a call and was obliged to follow. Not looking back, he moved on and was gone.

She stood still, no point in moving at all. "Oh no" she moaned, "I've met a Greek God ... and ... I couldn't stand his magnificence!" She paused and whispered "I'll burn forever now. My throat is burning, I'm burning, I don't think I'll ever ... "

But she didn't. Strain and injury made her eyes sparkle in an onset of tears. All fire soon quenched and enough to quench a hundred fires.
And as her tears welled slowly yet strongly, she started to change. Steadily, she turned from woman to glassy water, to sparkle and trickle, cold and pure, but henceforth neither to see nor to hear, to be seen nor heard, to feel, but only to be felt.