The plan was to wander off into the forest and explore the wilderness, while looking at each other’s bodies, holding each other’s hands. It was a cool day and we looked to the north in search of the horizon, our bags heavy on our backs, weighing on our already broken shoulders, water heavy on our mind. We attempted to muddle through each day, trying as we might not to hear the call of the wolf and not see the dinosaur tracks in the mud. Always some threat of danger on the fringes, but it never meets us. Seven days in the forest. At least we were together, where we can snuggle up warm at night all bundled in one tent, with too many sleeping blankets. The embers of the dwindling fire glowing through the material. We were on the search for the horizon. Our heads hitting the pillow only in pitch blackness. Early spring, time for the daffodils along the route, to guide our way. We only have a short time before the end. And we only have a short time before the night must come and we must sleep and see a dream and see this
We only have tonight
ENDS
PHILIPPA MANNION 