For the Trees

Brian licked his lips, as thirst overtook him. Boy, could he go for a long draft just now. There was nothing scenic about tress that hid the sky, fallen stumps to climb over, vines that seemed to grow around his legs, even as he moved, and the silence, the deathly silence. Where were the birds that he heard singing so sweetly not more than an hour ago? In fact, where were the sounds of traffic? He hadn’t heard a single car since he entered this . . . this, whatever it was.
Later, the sheriff was asked, ““I understand that there was something strange about what you found?” His answer was . . .