I have no idea how this happened. An ordinary walk, perhaps after a nice lunch. There were subjects discussed. A fond movement of heads towards each other. And despite my attempts at adulthood, there was a subtle beckoning from the woods in the valley. I opened the french doors and trod alone across the wet grass while everyone watched the back of my head. When I turned I was sunk in the shadow and the house was no longer visible.
I trod an old path that was so old it was rusty. Flakes of fucking rust powdered on my shoes. Worn by many feet and more years the path delved into the red earth and the first thing I saw was a pigeon on the ground without a head. Plain and dead; on the floor with no head, only a bloody neck and a pigeon head that wasn't there.
And I am you, and you, of course, carry on. Next you see something worse, a rabbit left lumpily on the grass with no head or legs in a gravy of blood, red against the wet green grass. Act brave, and nothing will happen. But I know, and you know: this isn't right.
So I entered the woods with rusty feet and my path was sunken and the day that I'd begun was a five-minute cartoon. Then the trees start to block out the light and the sun quickly seems almost a memory. Up there on a bank there's a man sitting and he scares the fucking shit out of me with his waving hands and silent white face but not half as bad as when I realise he's got stumps instead of hands.
And you, of course, carry on. Next you see something worse, a huge tree and under the tree arranged as if for a photograph are a group of people staring at you. Most have no hands. Some have only one leg. Others have absent arms, and a few look as if they have sunk to their waists in the earth because of no legs. And they stare at you, each of them, slowly waving their stumps, trailing bandages through the air.
An almost atrophied sense tells you to turn around to see a man of knives. He has too many knives. More knives than fingers, more knives than it is possible for a man to have. He has sharp knives of all sizes and he looks at you with no expression at all.
I realise that I will never leave this place, and step forward.