Envelop

My feet are stagnant on the manicured square of land, the tips of my muddy toes are facing the edge of the twisted, gnarled forest. The dividing line between this artificial perfect and the wild, untrustworthy woods, curves with the hills for miles on either side of me. The thickening air is descending and replacing this summer morning’s fabricated calm; with each breath, my lungs intake water within the humidity. To the right, far above the horizon, the sky is a blur gray as the clouds expand within themselves.

My right foot begins the trespassing within the savage, moving timber. The trees’ local birds squawk as they circle overhead; further past them, the sky begins to wheel around tinges of ashen greens and grays.
A thorn bush clasps hold of my arm, I free my bleeding limb and quicken my pace. The ground in front of me thrashes with movement, I swerve to the left and begin running.

Minutes pass of splintered bare feet pressing into the woods’ harsh earth and various tree limbs strike my face as I hurtle myself further into the grasping nature.

Without warning, a small rectangular clearing appears in the center of the dense jungle-like woods. I enter it and spiral around to discover that there is no trace of where I came, just a hemming of wild, dark growth.

The heavy air stoops again, I sit in the bed-sized, moss-covered glade. Fatigue fills my muscles, so I relax to my side on the velvety canopy.

Horizontally, looking at the surrounding weeds, twigs, and grass, I imagine them growing supernaturally fast and enveloping my body within this hedge. Dead, broken leaves would thrust their way into my mouth and soaked dirt would fill my eye sockets.

If I stayed here, this would happen.
If I stayed here, we would both be in the ground.