“Rah!” The half growl, half grunt radiated from the shuddering bushes just before a man, burped from their thorny branches. He lost his footing at just the wrong instant, catching the tip of his toe on a root born above ground, and tumbled forward over the slightest slope in the terrain.
It didn’t help that his light jacket had caught and torn on the sharp brambles and pricking thorns on the way out. It was almost as if everything was conspiring against him all at once. As if monsters lurked hidden in the leaves. Each determined not to let him get away without each taking a piece.
Of course, it would be cloudy tonight, of all nights, Jerome thought. Silhouettes and shadows twisted the surrounding woods into a living, breathing house of horrors.
He wondered if it might be a blessing in disguise that he couldn’t see the beasts and monsters digging in. He had reasoned that knowing what fate was reaching for him might scare him to death. He had decided that once while watching a horror flick some years back. A peal of thunder penetrated the thick forest around him, completing the ambiance that might have been in the same genre.
He stumbled to his feet, hissing over his leaking hands. Someone had a fucked up sense of humor. His hands pressed against his torn pants.
I’d be the worst main character for that kind of shit. Jerome pressed harder, hoping the pressure might bring his numb fingers back to life. He’d lost his entire pack to the same brute who’d stolen everything else he’d loved and counted on for survival.
He crossed white water rafting from his bucket list and imagined the damn Bear-Wine River as a person and kicked it square in the butt. He couldn’t care less if it dried up entirely and imagined damming the water upriver from the spot he’d fought and lost the crucial battle. In his book, revenge would be sweet, at least in theory.
Every inch of his skin had, at one point, felt as if it were on fire. After fighting through the bush hellscape, his outer surface had gone comfortably numb.
Shock, he’d reasoned. It was a product of shock. He’d almost died in the icy jaws of that stupid snake. His clothes were still damp what he wouldn’t do for a fire. He watched his fancy fire starter nicknack floating downstream with the pack. Dam you. As if zapped by inspiration, he shook himself into action. His hands flailed through the thick night air. His fingers crawled around the neck of the silvery item highlighted in the tiny bit of moonlight that peeped through the canopy.
He pulled the long-stem flashlight from its place. Click, Click, click. The only item he’d saved from his polar plunge. It had remained connected through his belt loop holster, and he’d been kicking himself for the last hour over not attaching his keys and firestarter to the keyring slot.
In the end, the backpack he’d put so much faith into betrayed him. It had sent him headfirst into the problematic rapids. He didn’t realize how top-heavy the bag made him until he was tumbling down the bank of the nasty river. If he hadn’t shed it, he might have ended up like his stupid smartphone. Swimmin’ with the fishes. He shivered violently, his hands clenched around the device. If only he’d followed the intuition to attach his fire starter to the keyring slot.
Click Click. It Didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Down the river or in his hand, the plunge drowned it. The flashlight was dead.
“Damn.” He scrunched around his ankles and planted his feet. “Whooooo” He huffed and puffed, gathering the rasping breaths and collecting them into larger bites before he stood again.
Click. Click. Click. click click click. “Damn! Stupid flashlight.” The words pierced the peaceful quiet. A low grumble remained in its wake while the stranger fiddled with the object, wrestling with his cold fingertips. Under the spreading numbness lie a thousand tiny cuts.
The flashlight slipped-n-slid around in his bleeding fingertips. The difficulty of holding on and getting his hands and tools to do what he wanted triggered pinpricks over his back. Finally, in a burst of anger, he pitched the POS as far as he could into the trees. It would only weigh him down. Shit was broke. He didn’t have time to obsess over it. He had to find his way back to civilization before he lost his damn mind or something else got him.
He shrank a little, suddenly feeling naked. It was him versus the environment. It had chewed him up, and it was still chewing with what seemed to be the intention of swallowing him whole.
His eyes darted through the dark. I used to love playing in this shit. Now, look at this.
The bushes shook somewhere in the dark. Maybe it’s a bear. Or worse. The fine hairs on Jerome’s neck crept up.
I’m behind you. A voice seemed to slink out of nowhere.
“Ah!” he spun to find the same wall of bushes he’d dug his way from. “shit!”
I could have at least used that stupid flashlight as protection or something. Jerome’s eyes searched through the patches of moonlight.
What a stupid idea. How was this relaxing?! He spun in a full circle, trying to figure out his next move. He tried to catch his breath and get a lead on his runaway heart before it broke some record and busted him wide open. The way it was carrying on it was just a matter of time.
“Stupid Pete, why the fu…” He continued mumbling, huffing, and puffing. He hadn’t run, pulled, pushed like this since high school PE class. How had he ever agreed to this? Why had this sounded like a good idea? It had come from Peter Labonte. Pete had always been an idiot. Why would this be different?
“… spirit journey, my ass.” He growled. A twig cracked just in time to catch the noisy outsider off guard.
Get it together, Jerome. His shoulders relaxed, he let out the breath he’d caught with a burp of high-pitched laughter. It’s just a stick.
Sure, he’d stepped out of the concrete jungle, played wild man for a day. But now, he was tired, hungry, and lost. The skip through the wilderness had gone from light to dark with the passing away of dusk three hours earlier. His heart thumped against his rib cage. Why did I think this would be relaxing?
A pair of glowing eyes appeared through the branches of a tree above his head. They blinked and flashed toward the noisy newcomer, trying to assess the level of threat before trotting toward deeper cover. A dozen smaller ones came to life. Curiously they twinkled and danced from points surrounding the first. On closer look, the reflective orbs belonged to a mother possum and her clan. Together they disappeared into the folds of a bough above them without being noticed.
“ha, ha, ha” His huffs came out like tiny bursts of laughter, or the sound made by a winded small breed dog exerted past its best effort.
He hadn’t bothered to look into the canopy. There had been just enough clutter right under his nose to keep his eyes busy on the ground level, so when a pine cone fell from just over his head, he jolted to attention as if electrocuted. He shuffled blindly, leaning hard into each tree he touched before pushing off and falling into the next. All he could see were darker shapes within darkness. The smell of Pine needles overpowered everything else. His dry body tried to force tears where there were none. He could feel his sinuses congesting against his arch-nemesis. Stupid allergies! And yet, the familiarity of the feeling was almost comforting.
His hands flailed through the surroundings. His focus shot to the spot the snapping branch had originated as if expecting to see some monster manifesting from his worst nightmare through the blinding darkness.
He released a breath and let out a huff and a puff with some wisecrack laughter.
It was just another twig.
The leaves engaged, pushing the stale scent of its dying coat. The wind sniffed in around the stranger, swiping at his light jacket as it wrapped him up in a whirlwind of cool air.
Jerome shuttered, partly from the cold but mainly from the feeling of complete loss of direction, Pete’s cheery voice rang through his recent memories. “Who needs a compass when you have GPS? Technology is so great these days it maps your trip for you…”
Yeah. That’s great until your stupid phone falls in the river and disappears in the white water rapids before you can test the waterproof case you just bought.
To make matters worse, in the process of trying to fumble for his smart device, he’d dropped the other ball he’d been juggling as well and then tumbled in after.
He licked his flaking lips with a sandpaper tongue. The only place the water hadn’t gone was where it was supposed to, in his parched mouth. The picture of his life-straw bobbing over the rapids with his drowning phone tumbling along the current somewhere beneath raised his blood to a full boil.
An owl’s hoot haunted the thicket, spinning him on his heels toward it. Crickets raised their racket outside of his eyes reach. In the heat of the moment, they were the extra icing on a cake he never knew he didn’t need.
And they say the city is noisy!
“Chyeah, Fuckin’ Pete,” … what a joke.
Beneath the brave front and loud runaway boogie he’d put on for the squirrels, raccoons, and possums, a new fear was grazing in his peripherals. Something was watching. The forest creatures could feel the explosiveness rising in the air around the newcomer. It had them all on edge, ready to skidder back to their hidey-hole at first sight of whatever had spooked the foreigner.
What if I never make it back. Jerome’s throat constricted at the thought. He squeezed his lids together to relieve his tired, tired eyes.
What if I make it back and develop some nervous twitch or weird complex I can’t kick because of the. The...
The word evaded him as his foot stubbed hard into an exposed root. Another wave of rage crashed in.
… Adrenaline, that’s the shit I was thinkin’ of. If I develop some adrenaline-powered twitch cause, I will staple that little weasel to the break room wall. Jerome quickly decided his office mate had never actually spent a night away from the city in his life.
Focus Jerome… He sucked in new air, quickly blowing its remnants into the canopy.
“Rrrrrah,” The battle cry came out more of a growl and a grunt. But it had done the trick. He was moving again, and he hadn’t blown a final gasket. An especially wispy branch swung out of his hand and slapped him across the face. “Come on!” He tore into the pine needles grunting, kicking, punching, and growling until he’d freed himself of the cluster. As he broke free, he crouched again, resting his bloody palms on his torn knees. This entire experience had been one big reminder of why he’d lived inside the city lines.
This trip had been an abomination to his track record. A deep dish full of unknowns and shit he hadn’t prepared for. Get it together, Jerome. He shook out his hands and feet, looking around for anything that might assist him. A better view… The intuition leaked in with the sound of crickets he’d tuned out as his tunnel vision drew to a fine point around the idea of escaping at all costs.
Okay, okay. Better vantage point, go higher. Alright, I can do that. Jerome glanced around at the looming silhouettes of trees crowded in around him. The first sturdy limbs were out of reach. He tested a few to find hands were still a good foot from touching.
These aren’t good trees for climbing. His inner child seemed to lift out of nowhere with the analysis. He was breathing more evenly by the time he launched forward, heading toward a small grove of trees with white bark. Not those either. He shifted direction and pinned his eyes to a towering, thick tree. It was perfect.
I’ll get a better view from that one for sure. His spirits picked up. He pinned his eyes to the first limb within his reach and drove forward. His feet throbbed more with each step. His knee pulsated where he’d fallen more than once.
I used to love this shit. Jerry scoffed, eyes darting to a dark bush off to his left side. He stopped dead in his tracks. It had appeared to be shaking violently from his peripherals. By the time he’d turned to face the foliage head-on, it was still as a corpse. He strained his eyes through the dark, his neck followed into a complete crane.
Damn. Jerome’s determination to reach the treeline wavered. From where he was, he couldn’t determine that the old tree’s lowest limb was deceptively higher than it had first appeared to be. Shit would be funny if he were watching it on a screen. Everything looks different in the dark, he huffed, looking back over his shoulder for a glimmer of silver in the direction he’d come. Nothing… Of course, there was nothing. The forest floor was thick as gumbo.
Thump.Thump.Thump. Jerome felt his heart in his throat again. Everything looked the same and different all at once in the dark. That was the difference between buildings and foresty structures. One was guaranteed never to move, while the other; was guaranteed to be in constant motion.
His eyes swung from one shifting shadow to the next. Worst-case scenarios poured through his mind and bled into the forest floor perfectly until every one of his demons was chiming in and peeping from the bushes and tall grass weaving in around his ankles. Each detail played its part in elevating his blood pressure to unsafe levels after he’d just got his breathing back in order. He looked over his shoulder, his body followed, he squinted into the darkness searching for the glint of silver, hope faded. The flashlight was gone. Forever.
A new fear rose from the turmoil tossing around his insides as he spun and stumbled over a shrub. The tree suitable for climbing loomed closer. What if you don’t make it back? Terror sank its teeth in, taking a bite out of the easy-to-reach City Boy.
“Oh no, you don’t.” He cackled, kicking aside a snare that had latched onto his boot. “Nah, not today, you don’t.” His fists clenched. He was going to reach that damn branch if it was the last thing he did. The closer he got, the deeper his resolve grew. It couldn’t be the end yet because he still had plans. Isn’t that how it worked?
He stopped to catch his breath. His eyes darted through the underbrush until his vision cleared.
He hadn’t told Amberly what he honestly thought of her roast beef sandwiches. He hadn’t exposed Bob for the closets he lived in and pretended he didn’t. He had money on his sports teams.
Unresolved business. That’s the kind of shit that keeps ghosts hanging around. Jerome shivered himself into action. He jolted forward, eyes still on the prize looming less than a hundred meters from him. He picked up speed.
He was climbing that damn tree. No damn ghost or serial something was going to climb no damn tree! Under the fear, he had a feeling the panic would pass when he could get a better look at his surroundings.
What about bears?
The musing stopped him in his tracks.
Bears climb trees. So do cougars, some kinds of snakes too. He’d heard that somewhere once, anyway. Maybe one of those animal shows or on the internet somewhere. The point was noted. Jerome wasn’t the only creature in the forest with climbing utilities.
Damn… He looked around, then up again, weighing his options before deciding up was better than on the ground of foreign territories. Wolves don’t climb trees. He nodded through the confirmation while pushing, punching, and kicking his way over the final stretch between himself and his chosen tree.
“Ooooh, momma, wish you could see me now.” He ejected a rebellious laugh picturing his mother telling him to get out of the neighbors’ tree. That shit would get him killed someday. It appeared the opposite was true. He tossed himself toward the branch. His fingertips brushed the underbelly before he fell back to the ground with a thud. Almost.
Jerome looked around at the base of the tree. He gulped in deep breaths. His thoughts were starting to come more quickly. He was almost there, and by the look of it, he might even be able to wedge himself in the branches and stay until dawn.
Okay, okay. Find something to stand on. A log. A knot in the tree surface.
Nothing surfaced but ferns and noodly underbrush. Next, Jerry bent closer to the forest floor, searching for anything useful.
A few feet from his chosen tree was another, its lowest limb was a foot or two above, but there was a massive rock wedged at its base. Between the boulder and the bulbous oak base, a fallen tree lay at an angle reaching off into the darkness.
Jerome looked back to the tree he’d first locked eyes on. It had seemed perfect for climbing from far away but up close, not so much. He glanced between the options, returning to the sense of urgency. A loud peal of thunder told Jerry it was time to get off the ground and find shelter in the leaves. He could almost hear branches and ground cover snap-crackling behind him.
I could reach the branch if I took another run at it. Jerome clung to the bone in his mouth for a moment longer before deciding he couldn’t. It would be best if he changed direction to the path of least resistance. He found his way through the ferns and shrubbery to what appeared to be a sturdy tree.
With the help of the fallen tree and the boulder, he reached his desired destination more quickly than expected.
“hahaha,” The triumphant laugh drawled into a sigh. Jerry huffed and puffed into the darkness. The vapors of his breath swirled upward, leading his eyes to the ladder of limbs promising to lead him to the top of the tree he’d chosen. The branches were consistent enough after the first bough, but the idea of slipping entered his mind with just enough conviction to pop his confidence.
His breath caught at the thought of going any higher. He tested the limb above his head. It wobbled and creaked while he tugged. He looked down at the ground as a litany of new impressions crept in.
I’m already pretty high. Maybe this tree was the wrong choice. Perhaps the branches above are more likely to break under my weight? What if the other tree is more flexible and robust. What if this one doesn’t reach high enough for me to see over the forest top? What if it peters out of sustainable rungs before I get where I need to go. Maybe I should wait it out until morning?
All these questions swirled around Jerome as a gust of wind threatened to unseat him. He melted into the trunk at his back. The low rumble of a brewing storm sank in and sent him over the edge into a new depth of panic.
The whirlwind of sweating palms and swirling thoughts lept into the vortex. His breathing grew shallow and labored. One fatal look toward the ground beneath his dangling feet sent Jerome over the edge. He flung his arms behind himself, hugging the massive trunk backward as best as he could.
A shock of pain seized his lungs and radiated from his chest to run up his right arm. He bit down hard on the tip of his tongue. The taste of metal filled his mouth. His posture shifted as he tossed around the idea of climbing back down, but then, what if he couldn’t find his footing in the dark. He wasn’t sure his arms would hold him and his shaking hands felt less than capable of lowering his weight gracefully.
That damn flashlight! No. this was all Pete’s fault. He and his always knowing a guy who knew a gal.
Huff puff.
His fists clenched over his chest, applying pressure to the area as if it might keep its contents from busting through the wall and spilling down to the forest floor.
Stupid Pete. Peter. Self-righteous know-it-all. Always knowin’ someone who tried this one thing.
This trip was the last ‘one thing’ of Pete’s he’d ever try. He growled and grunted, his face squinted under the pain. He couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers on the right side. It was a strange sensation since they looked as if his fingertips and palms had met their end in a blender. He opened and closed them into a fist, coaxing the feeling back as best as he could. He sucked in air and let out a hiss.
He’d wring his scrawny no-meat-eatin’ neck! The way that lunatic raved about this place, since day one in the office… you would have thought it was a damn 5-star spa in the middle of nowhere. His lungs couldn’t catch up with his shallow breaths.
Only the second half had turned outright. Jerome fumed quietly as the pressure built.
Agony pumped from every piece of his torn frame. Anger dripped from every pour as he pressed his hands against his chest again, nearly losing his balance in the process. The jolt caused him to look down.
The ground telescoped in and out until his tunnel vision turned to a pinpoint. He closed his eyes, hoping for a reset, but the thoughts seemed to build on each other, painting themselves over the unknown.
That optimistic green-grass half-glass yoohoo. The rant took up its chorus again. What did Pete know about recovering from loss and all its underbelly?!
Nothing or he wouldn’t have suggested a death trap that amplified the feeling of being lost and directionless. He spat up a guttural laugh. Those berries had been a little bitter. Maybe they weren’t the same as the wild blueberries he’d found on the exploring app Pete had suggested.
“Fuck that guy!” Jerome roared into the dark with all his might. The veins in his temples were dangerously pulsating as he blew off some steam in the hope of returning to normal. The eruption echoed back from somewhere in the distance.
A single drop from somewhere above splashed to his sizzling hot forehead.
You let fear guide your feet all day. How funny would it be if you made it to the top of the tree only to see the parking lot over the next hill? The inkling hissed.
With that final thought, the dizziness swallowed his peripherals. His hands swam through the empty air for something to anchor themselves to. In the end, he sank back, exhausted, into the trunk. His mind went quiet. The storm that had raged inside of him only moments before fell silent as he passed from consciousness.
A slight breeze whistled through the trees. Their black leaves danced around triumphantly as the rain began to pitter-patter all around his limp body. A million of them lulled him further into the exhausted quiet. He fell unconscious to the sound of waterfalls.
>>>
Peter wrung his hands and glanced at his apple watch. For your average bear, it was nothing to be late. There were always plenty of natural reasons why someone might be. But for Jerome to be late?
They’d worked together for upwards of three years, and he had yet to experience the phenomenon. It was almost weird how on-time he generally was. Predictability was one of Jerome’s best qualities. His timeliness made it easy for Peter to manage a schedule around, which, in his opinion, was a most valuable trait.
To someone who knew Jer as well as He did, Peter found it strange that management had marked him as a ‘no call, no show’ so casually. He wasn’t the type.
This impression left Peter feeling anxious over his cubical mate’s whereabouts and why he stood behind his compulsion to choke his fingers into little red sausages. Maybe his cube neighbor had taken his advice to heart and gone camping. Perhaps he’d been lost.
Had Jerome used the long holiday weekend to visit the range of mountains running through what was, essentially, their backyard?
In truth, Peter felt a little guilty. He couldn’t kick the feeling that he was somehow to blame for the empty cubical beside him. If his intuition had any footing, he’d left out the most crucial or helpful part of the article he’d stolen his talking points from the week before. Jerome had eaten up his story so attentively, Peter had been lost in the excitement of an active audience and hadn’t gotten around to the wise words at the end before their lunch break had ended;
The section that revealed, “Mother nature was like any other woman. It takes time to get to know her. A relationship is created through experiencing the details of her brutal landscapes, and as one familiarizes themself, they start to realize those details add up. If enough go missed, they can lead to fatal missteps.”
Pete chuckled at the comparison.
“… When details are uncovered through exploration and research, they stick and often lead to lifelong lessons. Through the process, it’s best to let mother nature define the boundaries. Don’t force the situation if you feel uneasy about a feat. Study survival methods until the dis-ease turns to excitement. Remember, you are stepping into hostile terra. It is her choice to reveal her hidden properties and your duty to revel in them.” That had been a good point. Come to think of it; he’d have to find a way to sneak that bit into future conversations.
Or there was the other gem he’d missed mentioning. “Start small in your ventures, one to two-mile hikes, get to know the plants that grace the area you are exploring, then the animals, and terrain, and suddenly, after some time and tuning, the environment starts to play like a symphony before your very eyes!” Why hadn’t he remembered that part! Peter palmed his forehead. Oh well. Next time.
The phone in a cubical close by pulled Peter from his thoughts. He rolled his eyes, discarding the inkling of his friend disappearing as a wild distraction from productivity. Jerome was probably sick with the flu or something, but, just in case, if the cube were still empty by lunch, he’d check with management for peace of mind.
He nodded firmly. If Jerome were out in the wilderness somewhere, lost and unprepared, he’d kick himself for neglecting the final paragraph of the travel guide he’d stolen his watercooler talking points from. Especially the part that said; If you are a beginner, it is safer and often more fun to travel and explore with someone else, preferably someone with a greater level of experience. Getting lost off the beaten path can become dangerous quickly if you don’t know your terrain or survival basics.
Pete chuckled at this. On second thought, he couldn’t imagine Jerome in a forest. Peter shook his head and went back to work. If he moved quickly enough, he might be able to hop over and fill in some gaps in his compadre’s emails. He’ll appreciate that.
With that final thought, Peter pushed Jerome and the constant urge to track him down to the back of his mind.
>>>
*Ksht* “Becky, is Darnell in the back still?” *Ksht*
*Ksht* Hey Doug, I think so. I haven’t seen him for a bit. I think he is doing the final inspection over the motor pool. Want me to grab him? *Ksht*
*Ksht* Um, no, just tell him we might want to section and close off branch G-M. Those trails are like the Bermuda triangle lately. *Ksht*
*Ksht* “Oh no… another one?” *Ksht*
*Ksht* “Sure is, this one’s a strange one.” *Ksht*
*Ksht* “search and rescue then, or….” *Ksht*
*Ksht* “No, but we will need a forensic team and a body transport, party of one.” *Ksht*
*Ksht* “Alright, I’ll let Darnell know we’ve got a code blue. Any details you want to pass along, so they know what they’re prepping for?” *Ksht*
*Ksht* “I’m curious myself. It looks like a lightning strike caught the tree and our guy on fire. They are both in about the same shape, I’d say. Huh… It’s strange cause there’s nothin’ burnt all around them, not even the grass.” *Ksht*
*Ksht* “What is that for the week?” *Ksht*
*Ksht* “I’m not sure, too many not to be a trend of some sort.” *Ksht*
*Ksht* “Alright, I’ll look up the number and get back to you right after I pass all this along to Darnell.” *Ksht*
*Ksht* “You do that, an’ kiddo, why don’t you go ahead and ask him if he’d like to put a temporary closure on those areas I mentioned, will yuh?” *Ksht*
*Ksht* “yes, sir!” *Ksht*
>>>
The ranger station occupants were left scratching their heads, puzzling over the 23 deaths they’d experienced along the trail in less than two weeks. They’d had their fair share of poaching accidents and lost hikers over the years. But this was different.
This scene was something new. Something that made the Veteran Ranger uneasy.
If only Jerome had listened to his inside voice. The clue telling him to reach for the first branch, the same one that led him to that tree from the start. It might have led him straight to the mouth of the trailhead he’d started from, through those double doors and into the office to give Pete hell over a horrible recommendation. It might have left him grateful for the position he’d begun to loath, grateful to be back in civilization, thankful that a total nightmare had been just that. Anyone lost in the wilderness knows anything offering a degree of comfort is most refreshing after a traumatic separation.
Maybe he would have been the main event around the watercooler, sharing how harrowing misadventures had taken a turn for the worst before they got better. Jerome might have come to realize the proverbial fire was meant to keep him warm and safe from anything lurking under the cloak of darkness. It could have doubled and tripled over time to become a life-changing moment that altered his outcomes so profoundly he might have been pleasant to be around. Maybe it would have led to a thousand better choices because that’s what acts of wonder tend to do when seen correctly. Because from that moment on, he might have awakened to the idea of wonderous things beyond his imagining.
And after all the pain, suffering, wandering, starving, and drying up in the moonlight, if he’d just reached for the top of the trees even, before letting his panic get the best of him. He might have seen. He was only a quarter-mile from parking lot floodlights. And the ranger station. A death-defying hike, leading him with perfect irony straight back to the point he’d started, safe, sound, and ready for an authentic meal.
He might have lived the rest of his life following a million reasons and occupations to stay full of stories he could share in the hopes they might spark the same fire to explore and find yourself in others as his next-door cubical mate’s words had kindled in him.
Maybe eventually, he would have found it in his heart to thank Pete for suggesting something so far from his comfort zone and routine that it shocked his entire existence back into being.
But he didn’t. Instead, he followed his worst fears straight off the only cliff that was sure to extinguish him, and quickly.
In the end, fear turned what might have been a shining achievement into what would have become a barrage of them, and it twisted the outcome into a cleverly crafted final demise. Down to the very last poetic stitch, Jeromes’ decisions reeked of it.
One might say fear had taken hold of the old forests’ breeze. One too many travelers had come baring the potent aroma. And the surroundings. had developed a taste for it.
MORAL OF THE STORY: Don’t let fear lead you by the nose. Its closest compatriot is death.
Wow, just wow! I’m sure this will make me think through my next adventure. What a great story!