The tall trees shelter us from the heat, high above the still green leaves. The path is a ruler, one cannot go wrong. But the woods are silent, nothing stirs, and we know we are observed. Someone, somewhere, is counting our steps, deciphering our minds.
Soon, we will know.
Least said soonest mended… who knows wjat secrets and mystery lies amongst the dertius on the forest floor. I heard this in a hushed whisper of a voice. Nice take on the prompt.
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