it was a dark and stormy day. sunday.
the feelng could be described as benevolent...
while the sun was out for a brief period in that morning,
along we walked. we walked to the sandy mossy banks of the local field of dreams.
and we filled up our brown paper bags to the top.
the feeling could be described as euphoric.
how many did we eat???
too many. thats for sure.
while we were laying in the grass, and the faeries were deep in conversation with the caterpillars, we started to get wet.
it was raining.
quickly we sat up and tried to make our way back to the fence, stumbling over the lumpy grassy hills.
Ben falls face down in the mud. and rolls around in the grass, clawing his face. suddenly he sits bolt upright and silently stands up. he stares at me with his hugley dialated pupils. and runs as fast as his legs take him into the dense undergrowth. suddenly im alone and i realise that this is a very bad thing.
the rain has saturated me through.
i follow ben into the forest running fast.
in my desperate attempt to find ben i get caught in some thick vines and fall down a hole.
the vines are wrapped tight around my ankles, waist neck and arms.
i cant move. i begin to flail wildly in a desperate attempt to escape.
i suddenly hear a soft, yet commanding voice, telling me to stop struggling.
i feel the vines begin to loosen and watch them slither back up into the canopy.
a large oak tree bends over me and takes me up into its boughs.
i am paralysed with fear.. or is it wonder? the ancient tree begins to rock gently singing me a lullaby.. you know the one.. rock a bye baby, on the tree top, when the wind blows the cradle will rock. a sudden gust of wind blows up, now i'm really shittin myself. when the bough breaks.. oh fuck!!! the cradle will fall and down will come edward cradle and all...
As im falling i can see the oak trees gnarled twisted features, and its voice has gone from soothing to harsh and vile.