Into the Woods (800 words)
Apr. 28th, 2020 04:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mbarkerThis week over at https://moreoddsthanends.home.blog/2020/04/22/week-17-of-odd-prompts/ my prompt was:
Your daily walk has been along the same route for months. Today, you notice a side trail up into the woods that’s never been there before. On a surprising whim, you decide to take the new path. Where does it lead you?
Hum... I decided to just do some freewriting, and see where we went... here's what I ended up with. Not finished, but... you might enjoy it?
Into the Woods (800 words)
By Mike Barker
Fred loved walking through the woods along this old path. Sometimes he jogged, sometimes he ran, but today he was just taking a slow walk. Letting the quiet seep into his soul. Sometimes life was just irritating, so boring and tame. Day after day, the same old same old. But the woods always had something new, whether it was the green vibrant growth in the spring or the slowly disintegrating brown of fall, like today. Insects and birds busily at work, sometimes a rustling in the leaves. You never really knew what you might find.
He was about to take the right hand twist in the path at the old oak when he noticed the gleam hanging in the air. What was that? He slowed down, and looked closely at it. It almost looked... well, sometimes at night you saw a reflection of a light along a metal edge. Or perhaps a nightlight, glowing under the edge of a door? He reached out, and slid his finger down the glimmering line.
Suddenly, the air split, and there was a whole new branch in the trail there. It had always twisted to the right at this point, bending around the oak rising beside the path. But now there were two branches, the right hand one that had always been there, and a left hand branch that he had never seen before.
He glanced along the well known path, and then grinned. He had just been thinking that life was boring and tame, hadn’t he? So...
He stepped onto the left hand branch, and kept going. He didn’t notice that behind him, the temporary warp in the air quietly vanished again.
The air smelled fresher somehow as he walked along. Then he shook his head. Wait a minute. That bush had green leaves, and it'd been fall… He glanced up at the trees, and they were gleaming green new growth, too. What happened?
He stepped into a field. Tall green growth stretched across it. And on the other side, near a pine tree, a… He blinked and gasped. Then he rubbed his head. It must be a deer, right? Or someone was playing jokes. It looked like… Well, a unicorn. One shining white horn, flowing mane, if it weren't for the horn, he'd call it a pony, but... It lifted its head, and soft brown eyes, big like a deer, looked at him and blinked.
Then it… It strolled across the field. He reached out, his hand trembling. It lowered its head and tapped his knuckles, then moved forward so that his hand was on its shoulder. He stroked it, and the unicorn gently laid the horn across his shoulder.
He had to be dreaming. But… His fingers caught in a knot in the mane, and he gently teased it loose. No, dreams didn't have things like this. He could smell the flowers, smell the unicorn. The sun beat down on his shoulders, and he gently shook his head. This was no dream.
After several minutes spent stroking the unicorn, he shook his head and looked around. He really should get back to the path, and home. He turned around, and started back. The unicorn pushed up beside him, and trotted alongside as he walked.
He frowned. There were his footsteps, he could see the tracks, but... they just seemed to start in the middle of the path? Where was the old oak, and where was the well-worn path that he always walked?
He looked around, and felt a cold shiver run down his back. He remembered that bush, and the trees, but... he couldn't see anything that looked like the old path. Well, his home must be over there, right?
He turned, and jogged a little bit. The small unicorn easily twisted through the woods with him.
After a while, he stopped. He looked at the sun, the clouds, the trees, the unicorn. Then he nodded, slowly, and blew his breath out. He took a slow, deep breath, and held it, then let it go to the count of three.
He didn't know where he was, but there was no sign of ... well, of his world. Of his old life.
The unicorn tapped his shoulder with its horn, and he leaned against it. Then he knelt, and cried. Yes, his life had been boring, irritating, not exciting. But... it was his life! He really didn't want it to go away.
The unicorn let him cry, gently rippling its shoulder as he let go of the old life.
After a time, he rubbed at his eyes, and shook his head. Then he stood up, and gently hugged the unicorn.
"Well. I suppose I should give you a name? What about Friday? I sure feel like Robinson Crusoe, castaway in a world I never knew was there. Or should I say here?"
The unicorn blinked at him, then nodded.
"Thank you, Friday. Oh, and I'm Fred, in case you care. And what should we do now? I suppose I should find shelter?"
He looked around, then walked into the woods. A lean-to shouldn't be too hard to put together. Gather some dry wood, too, and see if he still remembered how to make a fire from those long-ago days in Scouts? And he would have to think about what he could eat, too.
A new beginning?
Your daily walk has been along the same route for months. Today, you notice a side trail up into the woods that’s never been there before. On a surprising whim, you decide to take the new path. Where does it lead you?
Hum... I decided to just do some freewriting, and see where we went... here's what I ended up with. Not finished, but... you might enjoy it?
Into the Woods (800 words)
By Mike Barker
Fred loved walking through the woods along this old path. Sometimes he jogged, sometimes he ran, but today he was just taking a slow walk. Letting the quiet seep into his soul. Sometimes life was just irritating, so boring and tame. Day after day, the same old same old. But the woods always had something new, whether it was the green vibrant growth in the spring or the slowly disintegrating brown of fall, like today. Insects and birds busily at work, sometimes a rustling in the leaves. You never really knew what you might find.
He was about to take the right hand twist in the path at the old oak when he noticed the gleam hanging in the air. What was that? He slowed down, and looked closely at it. It almost looked... well, sometimes at night you saw a reflection of a light along a metal edge. Or perhaps a nightlight, glowing under the edge of a door? He reached out, and slid his finger down the glimmering line.
Suddenly, the air split, and there was a whole new branch in the trail there. It had always twisted to the right at this point, bending around the oak rising beside the path. But now there were two branches, the right hand one that had always been there, and a left hand branch that he had never seen before.
He glanced along the well known path, and then grinned. He had just been thinking that life was boring and tame, hadn’t he? So...
He stepped onto the left hand branch, and kept going. He didn’t notice that behind him, the temporary warp in the air quietly vanished again.
The air smelled fresher somehow as he walked along. Then he shook his head. Wait a minute. That bush had green leaves, and it'd been fall… He glanced up at the trees, and they were gleaming green new growth, too. What happened?
He stepped into a field. Tall green growth stretched across it. And on the other side, near a pine tree, a… He blinked and gasped. Then he rubbed his head. It must be a deer, right? Or someone was playing jokes. It looked like… Well, a unicorn. One shining white horn, flowing mane, if it weren't for the horn, he'd call it a pony, but... It lifted its head, and soft brown eyes, big like a deer, looked at him and blinked.
Then it… It strolled across the field. He reached out, his hand trembling. It lowered its head and tapped his knuckles, then moved forward so that his hand was on its shoulder. He stroked it, and the unicorn gently laid the horn across his shoulder.
He had to be dreaming. But… His fingers caught in a knot in the mane, and he gently teased it loose. No, dreams didn't have things like this. He could smell the flowers, smell the unicorn. The sun beat down on his shoulders, and he gently shook his head. This was no dream.
After several minutes spent stroking the unicorn, he shook his head and looked around. He really should get back to the path, and home. He turned around, and started back. The unicorn pushed up beside him, and trotted alongside as he walked.
He frowned. There were his footsteps, he could see the tracks, but... they just seemed to start in the middle of the path? Where was the old oak, and where was the well-worn path that he always walked?
He looked around, and felt a cold shiver run down his back. He remembered that bush, and the trees, but... he couldn't see anything that looked like the old path. Well, his home must be over there, right?
He turned, and jogged a little bit. The small unicorn easily twisted through the woods with him.
After a while, he stopped. He looked at the sun, the clouds, the trees, the unicorn. Then he nodded, slowly, and blew his breath out. He took a slow, deep breath, and held it, then let it go to the count of three.
He didn't know where he was, but there was no sign of ... well, of his world. Of his old life.
The unicorn tapped his shoulder with its horn, and he leaned against it. Then he knelt, and cried. Yes, his life had been boring, irritating, not exciting. But... it was his life! He really didn't want it to go away.
The unicorn let him cry, gently rippling its shoulder as he let go of the old life.
After a time, he rubbed at his eyes, and shook his head. Then he stood up, and gently hugged the unicorn.
"Well. I suppose I should give you a name? What about Friday? I sure feel like Robinson Crusoe, castaway in a world I never knew was there. Or should I say here?"
The unicorn blinked at him, then nodded.
"Thank you, Friday. Oh, and I'm Fred, in case you care. And what should we do now? I suppose I should find shelter?"
He looked around, then walked into the woods. A lean-to shouldn't be too hard to put together. Gather some dry wood, too, and see if he still remembered how to make a fire from those long-ago days in Scouts? And he would have to think about what he could eat, too.
A new beginning?
