In the forest?
Nobody knows I am out here. How long has it been? Hours? Days?
I can’t quite tell.
It’s so dark beneath the dense canopy and there is no sound, only my own footsteps for company, the occasional creak of branches as time does its job. Have I been down this trail before?
That tree with the heart-shaped lump where a limb should be, I saw it earlier. A dozen times or more.
And those footprints? Are they mine?
But I’ve been going downhill, always downhill, toward the bright light yonder.