The club was quiet that night, but Marci wasn’t bored. She stayed until closing time, nursing a glass of pinot noir and her own private thoughts. When she left, instead of getting in her car and driving home, she set off into the woods behind the parking lot. Just a whim, she told herself, though it felt purposeful.
She thought about the time when she was young and had wandered on her own into the other realm, and wondered why she had never tried to do it again.
The woods grew deeper around her and, though the night was warm, goose bumps rose on her bare arms. She looked up through the dense branches as a whisp of cloud passed over the full moon.
She was then drawn to a shimmering glow behind a large oak tree. When she stepped around the tree the world flipped and she found herself at the edge of a clearing, standing in several inches of fresh snow as the rising sun filtered through the trees.
A satyr emerged from the trees, and she knew somehow it was the one from the picture in Uncle Albert's desk.
"Finally." he said to her. "We were wondering when you were going to come."