B-rad
06-02-2008, 07:42 AM
Toby wandered through the open field, stepping cautiously in the gaps between flowers, careful not to trample any beneath his feet. A slight breeze ruffled his clothes as he went, tousling his auburn hair to one side.
Looking up, he saw the distant wall of trees that lined the field, gazing as their slender branches bent and swayed under an invisible force, whispering quiet songs as the wind slipped through their dark leaves.
He turned and saw the lone hut that stood atop the hill, silhouetted against the sun’s evening rays that sprayed through the clouds; smoke rising from the chimney in puffs and tufts, living long enough to see the sunset only once before being lost to the late afternoon sky.
All the while, eyes watched.
Toby knew that his mother would be angry, knew that her face would be dampened with tears as she told him never to wander in the field alone - though he didn’t understand why. He thought he didn’t have to.
Eyes watched.
A butterfly flew close and landed nearby. Toby giggled and moved closer, bending forward with a child’s chubby fingers to stroke its innocent wings. The rainbow of colours that littered its back captured his attention as it flew away.
Toby gave chase to its sporadic movements, losing all thoughts of mother and her warnings, and even the trail of crumpled flowers he left in his wake. The butterfly fluttered towards the tree line, unafraid of the years of warning that Toby had listened to but not believed.
Stories. Only stories.
Eyes watched.
Toby ran with the steps of a delighted child, an infant’s grin beaming from his face as he trundled on towards the forest’s edge; the only thing that existed in his universe now was a jittering butterfly and its vibrant wings.
Then nothing.
Later, his mother would come looking. But she wouldn’t find. She would see a path trod through the tall grass, but no boy. She would see a green and inviting field, but no son. She would find nothing…
Looking up, he saw the distant wall of trees that lined the field, gazing as their slender branches bent and swayed under an invisible force, whispering quiet songs as the wind slipped through their dark leaves.
He turned and saw the lone hut that stood atop the hill, silhouetted against the sun’s evening rays that sprayed through the clouds; smoke rising from the chimney in puffs and tufts, living long enough to see the sunset only once before being lost to the late afternoon sky.
All the while, eyes watched.
Toby knew that his mother would be angry, knew that her face would be dampened with tears as she told him never to wander in the field alone - though he didn’t understand why. He thought he didn’t have to.
Eyes watched.
A butterfly flew close and landed nearby. Toby giggled and moved closer, bending forward with a child’s chubby fingers to stroke its innocent wings. The rainbow of colours that littered its back captured his attention as it flew away.
Toby gave chase to its sporadic movements, losing all thoughts of mother and her warnings, and even the trail of crumpled flowers he left in his wake. The butterfly fluttered towards the tree line, unafraid of the years of warning that Toby had listened to but not believed.
Stories. Only stories.
Eyes watched.
Toby ran with the steps of a delighted child, an infant’s grin beaming from his face as he trundled on towards the forest’s edge; the only thing that existed in his universe now was a jittering butterfly and its vibrant wings.
Then nothing.
Later, his mother would come looking. But she wouldn’t find. She would see a path trod through the tall grass, but no boy. She would see a green and inviting field, but no son. She would find nothing…