A raven caws in the distance, a sound that mocks me. Otherwise, there is silence. A pale, deathly silence that stretches for miles from each cardinal point of a magnetic compass. A compass I no longer possess, by the way. Lost some miles ago, through a pocket hole. I can stitch a wound, but not a pair of pants. I am—at last—able to admit I am lost, unsure of the direction home. The raven ate my breadcrumbs.
You are out in the woods, like everyone else, looking for young Jody. After a busy day riding his bicycle around the neighborhood (four playing cards clothespinned to the spokes of his wheels to simulate, as well as such a thing can, the sound of a motorbike), with a short stop to antagonize Mr. Schlotsky’s aged dog Horace and another to sling-shot some rocks at a squirrel, Jody didn’t come home for dinner this evening.
You notice suddenly, panic rising, that the surroundings look unfamiliar to you. You have not been in this part of the woods before. In your fervent enthusiasm to find the body (oop, Freudian slip, you meant boy - or did you - but don’t let me put words in your mouth) you have wandered too far afield.
You don’t dare call out for anyone. At least not yet. You don’t want to appear the dolt too soon. But the dark grey sky is only getting darker. And the wind is picking up. If a storm breaks, no one will be able to hear your screams. And then there’s two.
I sigh at the mysteries of life and ruminate upon my place in the world. I ate poison mushrooms five days ago and survived. The same cannot be said for my dining companions. I lament their loss and feel considerable guilt over the incident, since I'm the one who picked the mushrooms in the forest that morning. I am colorblind and that appears to have made all the difference.
Something in the wood rises. Slowly it rises, a dark shadow. And with it, an icy wind . . . though, oddly, the dried leaves do not rustle. The forest is silent. I am only passing through, a stranger to these parts. I have no business with you . . . no history. Why, then, do you seek me out? I can't help you. The bees are gone. As well the birds. You shall be next. Then I.