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Heat #84

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The trees told me when I was at the heart of Lastwailing Wood. Inside me, the wood relaxed, and allowed itself to merge into my flesh, happy that I understood now what needed to be done.
I collected dead wood as quickly as I could manage it. I gathered broken branches from the floor of the forest and carried them by the armful. Heavier branches, coated brown with dried out moss falling off them, I dragged along the ground, and piled them all up against the trunk of a huge tree, wishing I knew what sort of tree it was.

2 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt about 2 months ago

    Never mind narrator, it'll probably be a burnt one very shortly and therefore of little consequence.

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn about 2 months ago

    Haha you should be there with him - no, on second thoughts I rather think he wouldn't have made it this far :) which would probably be a good thing!

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