Jonas

Every sound made me sit up.

Around two, I had to use the outhouse.

Took my flashlight.

Stepped outside.

Cold air punching me in the chest.

The woods were thick with fog.

Everything felt slow, like I was moving underwater.

As I came back across the clearing, I swept the beam of the flashlight across the trees and froze.

Something was standing just inside the edge of the woods.

Small, still, watching me.

It looked like a kid.

Couldn't have been more than four feet tall.

But the way it stood arms-loose, had tilted slightly, completely motionless, made the hairs on my arms stand up.

I shouted, hey, no movement for a second.

Then it stepped back into the trees.

Not fast, just gonna, I didn't follow, I went inside, locked every damn door set up in the armchair till the sky lightened the next morning, I didn't even hesitate, I packed everything up, the whole place suddenly felt wrong like I'd stayed too long in a place I wasn't supposed to be, I loaded my gear into the truck, tried not to think about the fruit of the music, the figure, and I was, then I ran to the back of the trailer and stopped cold.

Another spiral, but this time, not stones.

It was bones.

It was bones.

Dear bones, by the look of it.