There was a little boy,
many years ago, who was playing with his family in the woods. The sun
was out, the birds were singing, the supple trees adorned gentle green
leaves barely whispering in the wind.
Soon the
boy saw, to his curiosity, a spot of light peeking out from between the
shadows, down the trail leading deeper into the forest. It twinkled and
blinked and fluttered, dancing just out of reach. The boy turned away
from his family and began to make his way forward, attempting to grasp
it- to hold it in his palm, see it, wondering what it could be.
As
the family had their backs turned, the boy began to chase after the
light, which floated tantalizingly close but never quite close enough,
down the path. The glow was soft but mesmerizing, drawing the boy’s
gaze, his focus, as a trot became a jog became a run. The trees
gradually grew taller and thicker, trunks widening and lengthening,
clawed branches stretched towards the sky; they blotted the sun out like
black paint running through yellow. The sound of songbirds faded into
empty silence, yet the boy only had eyes on the small dot of light, not
noticing his surroundings bending and changing around him.
Many
hours later, oblivious to the sweat building on his lips and the
panting of his breath, the light floated to a halt in a dark, silent
clearing, surrounded by thick undergrowth that hung heavily in the
shadows.
The boy leapt for the light- finally,
being able to see what it was, what the strange, out of place, surreal
flicker was, it would be a relief, a revelation- but as he sprawled onto
it, it blinked and vanished. The boy landed against the soil, and it
was only then that he noticed how far he had gotten. The shadows
threatened to surround him completely, and the silence was broken only
by his breath, the thudding of his heart against his chest.
Just
then, all around him, dozens of dots, identical to the first, blinked
and appeared in the shadows, dancing and twinkling and fluttering,
whispering- almost begging- come find me. Come see.
The
boy, scared now, tore his eyes away from those shining lights, those
not-quite-right anomalies, he forced himself to his feet, turned and ran
back the way he came.
Branches and leaves
slapped him in the face, logs appeared out of nowhere, he skittered and
dashed and jumped, going this way and that, as dots of light flashed all
around, more and more frequently, dancing and moving and watching. He
ducked and ignored them, felt the magnetic pull of those lights on his
very being, but kept running and running.
What
seemed like days, weeks later, the trees began to sparse and lighten,
the light began to shine again through the leaves. Holding back tears,
the boy looked around, slowing. The dots had vanished, they were less
frequent now.
He pulled up to his family- there
were cries of relief, hugs, the boy wiped his eyes and looked around.
There was one more dot blinking light at him, from afar. He shook his
head. He let it be there, just that distance out of reach. It floated,
for a while, slightly behind him, but he only spared it one glance
before grasping his mother’s hand and following her back to the house.
By the time he got there, it was gone.