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Insides

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Insides The realisation that he was being followed crept into the boy's consciousness slowly. It was not the first time it had happened, so it was surprising he had not become aware of it sooner. He knew the sounds to listen for: the occasional crack and crunch of sticks, dehydrated plant life being crushed underfoot; the muffled echo of his footsteps; the quiet whispering breath that was not his own. Mature trees flanked either side of the uneven road on which the boy was travelling, golden light illuminating the green foliage and casting mottled shadows on the ground below. The boy came to an abrupt stop and plucked a leaf. Holding it up to the sun, he pretended to admire the delicate skeleton embedded in its opaque flesh, whilst he strained his ears. He could hear only the gentle chorus of the trees moving in the wind. Suddenly he felt his...

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