Perfectly Rehearsed Chaos

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic


An image of a blanket of serenity, upon a bed of danger.

Submitted: October 30, 2017

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Submitted: October 30, 2017

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The masterfully intricate cacophony of the woodland seemed to cease all at once. The ethereal creature stood in front of me was centre-stage as the light chirping of the birds faded into the background of the piece. The mystical deer slipped away from my vision like vapour from a pair of cupped hands.

In that moment I felt almost at one with the forest. It had opened its heart, its very soul and being to me and I would have done the same, if I was given the chance. In that perfect second you could almost forget about your daily toils, at work and in the restless, bustly city that certainly had no time to spare for admiring wildlife.

Like always, the clock ticked onwards and I heard a light patter of rain descending from the grey clouds that swamped the once blue sky. I took shelter under the branch of an ancient tree, twisted and anguished with old age and poverty. It must have stood for centuries and who knew what it might have seen? Maybe a medieval King galloping forth to pursue a deer, or perhaps two young lovers, their partnership forbidden fleeing to find a new life under this canopy of oaken glory.

I can't tell you how long I sat there for, admiring mother nature's imperfect masterpiece. One hour, maybe three but the Sun quickly began to run away, in abstract terror of her lunar lover who would never give up the chase through the sky. The rain was getting heavier now, the few stars I could see through the grey blanket seemed malicious and accusing, demanding an explanation for my presence in their domain.

Panic began to set in. I was so far out of my depth, wrapped up in a tree's arms that now felt cold, bitter and jealous. The forest cacophony began to rise again, intimidating, brutal and unforgiving. It was bitterly cold and I was not dressed for a night in the wilderness.

Animals are smart, they can smell fear and it seemed to me as though every creature in that wood knew exactly where I was, paralysed with a sense of crippling dread. I could hear the soft crunch of paws on dried leaves as I was slowly encircled. I remember thinking that the enchanting deer must have been the bait and I was the fish who swam foolishly into the trap.

Silence dropped on the scene, like a curtain on a West-End performance. I closed my eyes. The bark dug further into my back. As suddenly as it had descended, the curtain re-ascended and I've never heard such a perfectly rehearsed chaos in my life. Every noise on the Earth ricocheted through the air like the crack of a whip. A bark, a tweet and an innocent babies' gurgle. I even thought I heard a woman scream.

Like the flick of a light switch, I was suddenly blinded by a harshly shining light. It took all of my waning willpower to wrench open my bloodshot eyes and see the outline of a pure white deer, galloping along the clearing. There echoed a brief howl of anguish and the creature disappeared along with the Wolves and their choir. And despite the fact that I can't remember ever feeling more awake in my life, I drifted off into a dreamless slumber, peaceful at last.


© Copyright 2020 Daniel Simpson. All rights reserved.

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