Fly Away

“Hey, Josey.”

“Good morning, Smith. How’d you sleep?” – she answered nearing him, looking into the distance with squinty eyes.

“I didn’t, that’s why I’m here. Listen.” – he said and turned back. – “I just thought. That house near the forest, remember? We got to check it out.”

“Really?”

“Don’t worry about it, we just need to check something, and we’ll be out of the house.”

His eyes shifted to the horizon and with solitude he stood there leaving her confused and curious.

“Okay. But you know I’m doing this for you, right? I never even liked her. She was rude and just an asshole.”

“Come on… She was just quiet.”

“With you she was, when you were fucking her.”

“Josey, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Smith raised his voice and she put her head down.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to say she was quiet, probably loud with you, huh?”

Smith put his arm around her black coat.

“What’s wrong?”

As they locked eyes a slight smile slowly emerged on her face.

“Just going through a hard time, you know. And also, this tape that I found in the morning. It’s very weird, Smith.”

“Can I see it?”

Birds flew over their heads, flying to sit on the stones near the water. Locals gather at the same time as always for quarter of a decade at this bay. The bond is strong with each other knowing exactly what to expect – birds expect food, locals expect the company, the company of another God’s creation.

…

“Good day! The 2

day, the same route as yesterday – to the west!”

…

Menny forest. First discovered back in the 18

century, when foreign invaders depicted it in their journals – very-very old journals. A very interesting reputation of the forest resided by a very rich ecosystem – depictions involve signs, feelings, instincts about the forest. Instincts of betrayal, hatred, satanic predisposition. Might be that the invaders were not welcomed in these lands.

…

“What were you doing here, Margo?” – Smith asked himself.

Chapter 4

‘Margaret is alive?’

The bright balcony at the seaside was lit in a very moody way; Limned by the Sun someone’s figure appeared like a shadow in the room. The beach full of people was in action before the still picture of this room not that far away from it and only the journal pages with the pen scrubbing on its surface passionately could be heard which disturbed the beautiful silence of the room, but with a purpose.

“Summer’s coming.” – she said and looked out the window after writing the last word in the diary:

‘Amen.’

Sounds reached the room from downstairs – steps, heavy steps. She took the diary and instantly put it in the crack between wooden flooring. Steps now could be heard clearer with the floor creaking, intensifying the suspense, but deciding to take her time she opened it once again, writing something in a rush.

…

“Listen, I’ll send you my help to find that diary, ok?”

“What? What do you mean ‘I’ll send you my help’? Can’t you clarify?”

“I need to go, Charlie, I’m in a hurry. You’ll find my guardian where my diary is in the room, ok?”

Margaret fleet in the distance, leaving him with no time to say anything.

“Margo! Damn you! Always doing it your own way.”

…

The door to the room bathing in sunlight opened and a man walked in.

“Good day, Ms. Margaret. The food is ready, we’re waiting.”

A tall figure stood in the doorway, halfway in. His deep voice broke the silence and solitude and was continued by him uncomfortably staring at the ground.

“You two can wait.” – she said and sat back down. He glanced at her once again and closed the door.

…

Atlas was running through the open field – a new part of the forest was discovered by the group.

“Hey, look!” – a little girl screamed; The sky was totally occupied by the birds.

“Something’s not right here.” – Isaac stated standing by Smith. He was in his 40’s but looked younger.

“What is it?” – Smith asked.

“Birds… They do not fly south this time of the year, something is happening.”

…