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Michael S. Atkinson's avatar

He rumbled through the forest, awash in comfort. He hadn’t been troubled by others in some time; they were usually dissuaded with a few blows of his tail. As he trundled along, he observed the sun had a companion up there. He wasn’t bothered. It looked warm. Warm was good.

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Jeannine's avatar

The fireflies danced at the forest edge. Entranced, I followed their glowing trail, receding into darkness. Suddenly, my foot crashed through a deadfall, hopelessly trapped in the tangle of broken tree limbs. I'd forgotten the ancient tales of the Will-o-wisps, who lead fools such as me into disaster.

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