The Woods


The light that afternoon was bright and glaring. It broke through the crowd of trees and made the water droplets on the autumn leaves glitter. The fallen ones on the lonely path were crisp and dark in decaying colours of brown, the curling of the ends suggesting they had fallen a while ago. The bitter cold had left a frost overnight, and the grass had a light dusting. The woods were silent, as the creatures hid within the holes and cracks craving what little warmth they could find. The mist from earlier that morning lingered still within the thicket, and the ripe berries were still there for the taking.


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