ON THE FIRST DAY there were five of them in the forest. Chatting away the day as they went deeper into the woods. The tallest man had broad shoulders and appeared much older than the boy truly was. His brother was smaller and his fair hair feel in front of his eyes so that one could not see how the blue of his eyes defied even that of the brightest sky. There was a lean girl walking ahead, her lithe step that of a dancer. The last boy admired her from behind too afraid to let her in, too afraid to be himself. And there was another girl but she was far behind, for she could appreciate what lied before her eyes. The sound of baby birds as they waited to be fed; the smell of the earth as it had been disturbed by rain; the way the light hit the leaves above her head, casting an eerie tone on everything it touched. She had grown tired and called to her friends so that they would wait for her. But no one shouted back as she had taken the wrong path and her friends were long gone.

ON THE SECOND DAY she was quite tired and thirsty. Her water was running low but she had packed enough food. She knew the way back home. Except it was three times now she had passed the same three, so perhaps it was farther to the right than she had previously though. Whichever way it was, it probably was not down the cliff from which she fell. She was left almost unharmed. Soaked in mud and chilled to her bones, her ankle a little sore, she decided to rest for the day. And so she found a cozy looking tree and there she slept, disturbed only by the stranger sounds of the night.

ON THE THIRD DAY she woke up under a burning sun. Her ankle was swollen and she could barely walk on it. The only way was downhill and so she used a long branch to help herself up and support her weight and she went about trying to find the end of this damned forest or someone who would help. But no help came and she could not get very far without needing to rest her throbbing ankle. Hours of mindless wandering and she arrived at what seemed to be a small lake, forgotten somewhere in the history of the mountain. She drank the water until she could take no more and bathed herself, the cold water washing off her skin of horrors of the day.

ON THE FOURTH DAY there were memories. She had been here before and but certainly not with her mother, who was lying next to her soaked in the sun of july. She did not understand, where had she been a few minutes before? With her friends, hiking in the woods. Oh. Well it was nice after all to be with her mother. She had died five months ago and she missed her so much! She was so beautiful, in the sun. She did not want to leave her bed. She had had a nightmare, that she was lost in the woods all alone and it would feel so much better to lie in here all day. It was so comfortable to be in one's home, safe from sorrow but a branch was poking her thigh and so she woke and tossed and turned and the mess of her hair was tangled and stuck in the root of a tree. And a worm was gliding across her cheek but she did not brush it off because she did not know.

ON THE FIFTH DAY there was nothing.

ON THE SIXTH DAY her lease was up and her body had been returned to nature. She was the feast of the day and she lay peaceful as she rotten away on the grounds of a forest far away. It is a shadow that disturbed the day as it was cast upon her frail silhouette. A decision, somewhere was being made. The day grew to an end her as the trees shed their tears for the life of a girl who had shared their land, the world changed.

ON THE SEVENTH DAY she walked the earth again and as the sun claimed the sky every step she took woke with her a little bit of nature. Lillies blossomed where rock had dominated mere seconds ago. From her touch, fecund wonders were born from what had been dust. For she was alive again, and the world had risen with her.



Art by Pie
Profile by PUNS