neither daydream nor dream alone

Spring path was always particularly eerie, but in a beautiful sense only. There almost seemed to be an everlasting blossom hanging from the trees, and you could always hear a faint bird song in the distance.

As I advanced in the heavy fog, I could no longer see the shrubbery shrouded in mist. I hated to admit it, but I was probably lost amongst all the grey haze.

Then you appeared as a vision, with a tender look in your eyes and a greatly comforting smile. The sight of you was a true vision, it was nothing of a daydream, queer imagination or even a vision trick. Certainly, you must have been the most perfectly real unreal thing I had ever beheld. I realized so when I tried to kiss your pale lips: the shape of your very face vanished and spring path revealed itself once again.

All that now pervaded in the thin air was a great sense of comfort and a beatific smile.