You're sitting on a concrete floor.
The first thing you notice when you open your eyes is the red gem sitting on the floor in front of you. It's shaped like a tree, with a short, sturdy trunk, and a massive treetop. It has a small crack running down from the top. A thin leather cord is wrapped around the trunk, and tied in an unyielding knot: a pendant.
You pick it up gently by the cord, and tie it around your neck. Then you look around: The concrete you're sitting on is a large slab sitting half embedded in the forest floor. Redwoods tower higher above you than you can see. There's no wind, no animals, no sound, no movement.
Rising to your feet, the scraping of your shoes on the concrete grates against your ears. You peer through the darkness, past the trunks in front of you, but cannot discern any shapes. You carefully step to the edge of the slab, and hop down the two or so feet.
YOU ARE READING
Twisted Dreams
PoetryA collection of short stories, poems, and half-written ramblings. ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 dream \ ˈdrēm \ 1 : a series of thoughts, visions, or feelings that happen during sleep ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 night·m...
