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September 3rd


HE NEVER LOOKED BACK,  NOT FOR A SECOND, 

FOR HE KNEW HE WOULD NOT RETURN.

Not for awhile anyway.

He also knew nobody would be looking for him.

The side gates did not glow as they usually do, for the sun was embalmed within the darkening cumulus clouds. The gates were old and rusty, and where he was coming from.... nobody associates themselves with the rusty or robust.

The forest was different.   It was all old and rustic, no nuances, no need for petty pleasantries .

It just was.

As things should be.

The leaves cowered underneath his thick soles  as they were crumpled by him. The sound euphoric.  He stomped harder and harder the further he got away.

The trees were a  multitude, they covered his tracks better than any  one ever could. Better than any mastermind could try.  A natural accomplice.


Here, nobody could hear you scream.




A jaunty tune filled the air around him.   The haunting  melody of  Valse Sentimentale . A slight skip in his usual tired steps.

His trek was far, but he had time.  And besides, 

the journey was well more fun.

The forest became more quieter the further he ventured into it. Before long, the birds song and the animals were the only thing adding to his symphony.

With his hands deep in his pockets he trudged up a hill before running down the incline. The tall high grass swaying for him, their natural lullaby entrancing, bewitching.

He walked for a few more miles before looking back for the first time.  A deep full faced smile.  Of course no one was behind him.



  Who would dare?

The sound of deep rustling snapped his head back front.  





He had arrived. 

 And so soon.

Quicker than light, he slumped his back  and lowered himself before creeping behind a nearby tree.   He was higher than the source of the sound and had no need to hide, in fact... to the source, he was invisible.

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