runs through a forest

She streaked through the forest like a bullet, like a ghost. There was no
sound, no evidence that her feet ever touched the ground. Her breathing
never changed, never indicated any effort. But the trees flew by at deadly
speeds, always missing us by inches.
I was too shocked to close my eyes, though the cool air whipped
against my face and burned them. It felt like I was sticking my head out
the window of an airplane in flight.
Then it was over. We’d hiked hours this morning to reach Edythe’s
meadow, and now, in a matter of minutes—not even minutes, seconds—we
were back to the truck.