The breeze feels cool in the night air from the storm that had just passed. The wood alive with the rustling of leaves against the midnight sky, and the glistening of rain soaked grass dancing in the moonlight. The soft mud pushes to the side of Jill’s feet with each step, making wet sounds beneath her feet, bringing her closer to that place.
Chains move in the dark of the forest.
The cabin stands still at one end. Alone in the darkness of the wood behind the mansion, it was almost as if this place had been forgotten. Forgotten for some time. Time lost as much as the memory of a woman.
A tiny bulb illuminates the front door, and reflects off the puddles below. Someone still comes to this place…
Derek Traver Art 