The Forest

The last twenty fours hours have been crazy. I spent the first part of the night in the forest, hiding in a fox hole covered with leaves and mud to conceal my smell. Dogs were barking, people were shouting. Helicopters were whirling above, their spotlights turning the forest into some spooky, strobe drenched dream. I soon realized that I wasn’t going to escape unless I moved on. The dogs were getting closer.

I stumbled on and on, tripping over roots concealed in the forest floor or tumbling into natural craters in the uneven ground. I eventually fell out of the forest, slipped down a steep slope and landed on my back trying to stifle a loud grunt as air was expelled from my body in an effort to minimise the pain from the fall.

Opening my eyes, I noticed a clear night with the moon just a sliver above me, giving my pursuers no joy in their hunt. I looked over and realised I had chanced upon some train tracks. With the commotion of the dogs and helicopters starting to disappear into the distance I begun following the tracks.