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The Path

Posted by on January 6, 2011 in Creative Writing Assignment |

The gravel parking lot looks like no one’s been there since the day it was built. Tall grass surrounds its outside. As I exit my car, a soft wind blows on my face and the white rocks crunch as I walk toward the dirt trail. A minute in and I’m surrounded by woods on both sides. The leaves rustle and sound like newspapers being crumpled into a ball.

I walk down the path and large roots stick out of the ground like natural speed bumps. I want to run but know it’s not the time or place to get careless as I descend into the tree covered darkness. The trail slopes downward and I begin to lose my footing. I look for something to grab onto to but there’s nothing there as I slide sideways for what seems like a mile.

I get up, dust myself off, and realize that I’m still on the path. I hear water but don’t see a stream. Birds are squawking alerting the other animals that an intruder is approaching and I begin to run.

I sprint like a convict who’s just escaped from prison. My heart is beating and my head is pounding and I look back to see if anyone’s following me. I know no one is, but your mind can mess with you when you’re in the woods.

The path winds for miles. I cross a train track and wonder if it’s still in use. The shinny steel on the tracks tells me that it probably is. And it makes me wonder where these trains go and what kind of bounty it hauls. And then I think, if I wait long enough, maybe I can jump on one of these trains and just disappear like you did.

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