WINNER OF THE 2012 UTOPYA AWARD FOR BEST VILLAIN I hang my head in sorrow for just a moment when I know I am truly alone. I feel like I’m going to my execution just as he had said. Then I move forward again. I hop a fence of fieldstone and cross a field dotted with Queen Anne’s lace. Goose bumps rise on my arms as I pass the cluster of windmills that I have seen in a dream. The scent is sweet in the field though not the scent of heat like it had been when it was forced upon me in visions. I gaze down the hill beyond the small whitewashed house that I knew would be there. The church looms dark and grim with its rough-hewn timber façade capped by tall oblong spires reaching to the sky. Black ominous clouds have collected above the roofline as if Heaven is showing me the way.
