Fawn in the woods.

It is snowing and I'm walking through the woods. It's light all around, and I'm walking bear-foot but I can't feel anything. The leaves are a shock of red and gold, but the Evergreens stay forever green. I come to an opening in the woods, a small field where there are a group of little fawns. I slowly approach the fawns but they are not afraid of me. They surround me and nudge me with their noses. I sit with them, stoking them.

Stigmata.

It is grey and cold. I am standing on a train track, unable to movie. My feet and hands are bleeding.

Then warmth illuminates down on me through a sheer light. Michael is the light's name. The light feels old.

"Everything will be okay." The light told me.