Walking home from school that gray autumn afternoon, the air felt unsettled. My walk was a calm trek through a forest trail when I got off the schoolbus—a shortcut I discovered not long before. After this day I would never take it again.
Entering my secret trail, an unusually strong gust of wind blew in my face, and a spiderweb flung from a nearby tree and covered me. I shrieked, “Oh my god!” as I desperately scraped it off. When I was free of my silky prison I glanced up and noticed a figure in the woods. Perched at a slant behind a large oak about 60 yards away, a man with dark brown hair stared at me. His face, seemingly startled by my noticing him, quickly disappeared from the left of the tree. Curiously, it never reappeared on the right.
Unperturbed, I continued on my walk. Given the brisk wind whistling in my ears I marched, unhearing. I didn’t need my ears to notice the spiders though. The deeper I went into the forest the more it felt like I couldn’t take a step without squishing a few. I made a game of trying to avoid them. My laser-focus on the forest floor must have distracted me from him because by the time I saw him again, it was much too late.
