Photo-Story: One day in the city
We felt that day was going to be great. We were tired of killing orcs and exploring dungeons, so we jumped through time and space and landed in a coastal city.
It’s in the south of France, near Marseilles, and it’s called Carry-le-Rouet. I just remember it reeked of fried fish—strong and greasy—and it was the best smell in the world, because I was with her.
We took some photos at the harbor, while the sun was still rising.
Tamzyn said it was a bit cold, so I lent her my overshirt. It felt strange—she’s never cold in the worlds of Drozz. But here, in the modern world, she gains a kind of vulnerability. I feel something unsettling in that duality: strength and fragility, like a diamond.
We enjoyed a coffee on the promenade. As we’ve done many times before, we talked about life, love, and art. We ate some fried fish, and a bit of cake.
I stood there, looking into those eyes—deep green emeralds. The deepest green, almost black.
We went to the park. With my hand, I combed her wild hair a little, caressing those golden-red strands, as smooth as silk. We walked in the evening, enjoying the good weather of this part of autumn.
I thought about Neruda’s verses—about sunsets, falling leaves, and calm—and how his love was like ivy wrapped around his arms.
Her smile melts me. But maybe the way she looks at me does even more. I took this photo in the rose garden—those moments in the park when time seemed to stop.
As if we could control time, make it go faster or slower… and all we wanted was for it to last forever.
We rented a room at the hotel and got ready for dinner. Tamzyn tried on a few dresses—this was one of them—but in the end, she chose a black one. Usually, she just wears the first thing she picks. She’s a natural girl and doesn’t spend much time on that, though she likes to look pretty. Maybe it’s because, being a nymph, she doesn’t need to do much to shine.
In another universe, she might be insecure about her appearance—trying on dozens of outfits and never feeling satisfied. But here, as a creature born from a seed, pure instinct and survival, like a plant, she has never known guilt, never known shame. Her wounds heal with the sap of the tree.
Tamzyn liked the restaurant. It had a warm light, and the food was good. She told me some strange things that didn’t make much sense, but she listened to everything I said and always had a kind word to offer. The way she thinks is sometimes very alien, and other times she’s simply the nicest person in the world. After all, she’s not human.
She’s extremely adaptable to everything, yet has strong roots that can break stone. With a sense for the brightest things in life, the green in her eyes reveals her nature as a dryad. It’s so obvious that I wonder how others can’t see it.
We went back to the hotel and got more comfortable. I was looking out over the city from the balcony when she came to my side and said, “Hi Sioul, I had a fantastic day today.” I agreed.
“But we’re not finished here,” she said, in a sultry, low tone.
She faced me directly and opened her housecoat. “The neighbors can’t see what you’re seeing,” she said with a smirk. Mischievous nymph…
She played with the housecoat a bit more, my gaze fixed on her, before I slid my hands into her robes and caressed her smooth skin. I tied the housecoat again and pulled her into the bedroom, while she chuckled.
Then she revealed herself in all her beauty. Slender yet voluptuous, fit and abundant at the same time. I asked her to stand, just so I could take in her beauty—as my heart raced, my mind spun, and confusion overtook me in the contemplation of her gorgeousness.
I fell with her onto the bed, and soon I was one with her, surrounded by her, my hands exploring every firm, flexible curve. Her scent—wood and flowers—saturated my senses. I couldn’t think at all. I was just a body loving another body.
We preyed on each other. She kept me awake and in a storm for hours.
I swear I could hear the screams of fauns and the pounding of hooves on the ground, and feel the breeze of high mountains and deep forest.
Exhausted, under her spell, I drifted into sleep.
When I awoke, she was looking at me with a satisfied smile, still drenched in sweat.
Her deep green eyes—an impossible color—stabbed into my soul.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” she said.
But I can’t escape time and space. I can’t. Nobody can, Tamzyn.
Maybe we’ll never have a place of our own. But we can still enjoy what we have.
Love is a fantasy, after all. Or maybe it’s real when it’s good—and everything else is the lie.
We fall asleep. In the morning, I wake up alone. My heart jumps—but soon she appears, dressed in a black camisole.
“Where are you looking? Look at my face!” she jokes.
Some kisses, some jokes, some laughs. Then we head out for breakfast at the café nearby.
My heart is breaking. I have to leave—return to my world, my time. Distance and time, like an abyss between us, hurt.
I know she’ll take care of herself while I’m away. She’s a warrior, after all.
Tell me you’ll stay here and wait for me. Tell me you won’t regret it.
I capture her image in my memory, since I can only remember pictures. Her smile, her eyes, her expression.
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