The woods, thick with green and misted with ancient magic told from old to new. Strong trees rise to the sun, sheltering the lives of ivy and weeds growing among the unearthed roots. Birds nest and raise their young in the corners of the stretched branches.
Trees hold the bodies of gods aged with time, their hands and legs the roots and branches, their eyes are those of the nested birds. The sky to which looks down on the ancient wood sends life through the kiss of sunlight, earthing new roots form the seed of the fallen.
Through all the beauty comes man. Harsh and sick with the human condition of greed comes the men with their machinery. The once magnificent wood cut in half by the roads of men yearning for travel, their families held in wagons bound to horses.
Though the wood is harmless in daytime, quiet and still, night does come. Cold and unforgiving, releasing armies of danger with sharp teeth and big paws.
Women, men, and children fall alike. Their bodies, too heavy for the travelers are left in the tracks to which they traveled. The wood is forgiving and their bodies fall into the land. In years, they rise. Trunks thick and branches spread wide.
YOU ARE READING
Short story: To build a road through the woods
Cerita PendekMistakes and rebuilding is truly the human condition.
