The Sun Went Down Some Time Ago

I'm OK. The fire is warm and safe. The sun went down some time ago, I don't know when.

The woods beyond is dark against the twilight. Black tree limbs bend over me, whispering in the wind and tickling at the surface of my tent.

Something's moving in the darkness.

Stay near the fire. I'll be alright.

Think about the white farmhouse with the red barn at the end of the green pasture. Devon and Douglas are in there.

In the morning light I'll move on, keeping the eastern sun on my right ear. It will lead me back. It has to.

For now, I'll let the fire keep me safe. Whatever is moving in the woods will stay away. It has to.

A drop of rain.

Another.

The hair on my arm is up, goosebumps lining a path to my wrist.

The rain comes quickly. The fire hisses. Now that thing in the darkness is quiet, waiting.

I'm up, tossing my blanket in my pack and rolling up my tent. I put on my hat. The fire is drowning.

Go.

I grab the flashlight and point it toward the tall oak tree where I set up camp.

Go.

Run, stumble, stop and listen. It's following.

Think about the farmhouse at the end of the pasture. Devon and Douglas. I can make it out. I can go home again.

I come to a river. The moon reflects off its surface. The rain is letting up, but the current is too fast to cross. Which river is this? Which way is north?

Pick a direction and follow.

I turn right.

A tree limb snaps somewhere up ahead. I slip in the mud and drop my flashlight.

No!

It's fine. Breathe.

Just set down the bag, bend over and grab it. Think about the farmhouse at the end of the pasture.

Clouds cover the moon and the river is dark.

The thing in the woods is closer.

I set down my bag. The flashlight must have gone out. It was right there. Why did I drop it?

The farmhouse was right there. Why did I leave?

I blindly touch the ground, feeling around in the mud, hoping for the cold touch of metal.

Nothing.

The river is loud. It's too much.

I expand my perimeter. I can't make it out without the light.

My foot slips into a drop off. I can't catch myself.

I stumble and fall.

The moon comes out.

I'm falling into the river.

This is it, then. I'll never see the morning sun again, lifting the dew off the green pasture. Chickens clucking in the barn. A hot coffee on the porch, watching the fog with her.

It's over.

As I hit the water, something crashes out of the woods.

I strike a rock with my hip.

I see stars and a white farmhouse as I slip away.

A hand grabs me by the arm. It pulls, taking me out of the water. It drags me up a dark slope, back into the woods. I can't fight it. I don't want to. I close my eyes.

It lets me go.

I open my eyes again. There's light nearby. A fire.

My tent. My pack.

The thing slinks back into the darkness around me.

I'm OK. The fire is warm and safe. The sun went down some time ago, I don't know when.