Tonight I wandered away from the river house. I wandered down the pine-lined path of twilight and emerged on the other side. A small town, in the bottom of the valley, lights from downtown. Pale orange, like the sun when it had burnt her hair. The bar was quaint, quiet. The bar tender, Irish-accented, offered me a beer. I'd never drank.
I walked back home during at dawn. The forest always looks different. Less menacing, friendly. Trees whisper good morning, dew falling onto fresh-soaked grass.
I crawl into bed. No one hears it squeak.
I would return again.






By Ashley Dodge©