He sat in the woods. He was not there by choice. He did not volunteer for this experience. He was driven here by forces stronger than his character could handle. He was here now and he knew it was his one final mistake. The reason that brought him here to an environment he knew nothing about dimming in his mind as he faced the result of his poor judgement at coming here in the first place.
He stared at the bone sticking out of his leg. Pulling off a glove, he poked at it with a finger. Tensing in anticipation of the pain that should follow, the man was surprised when no flash of gut wrenching agony followed. Surely there must be pain he thought. No pain was not a good sign. Of this he was sure. He attempted to move his other leg. Nothing. Instead of feeling dread or panic, the man was only puzzled. He was positive he had not fallen that far. He was alive after all he thought. But at least now he knew why there was no pain below the waist. And again the notion of this not being a good sign settled into his thoughts. Probably paralyzed he mused without emotion.
He wondered how long he had laid here unconscious. It was dark now. The stars he could see when he bent his head back were sharp and brilliant. When he fell it had been mid day at the latest. And now in the dark all he could think about was what time was it.
He wondered why he had struck out alone. He wondered about a lot of things as the life slowly faded from his soul. Just what had made him think he could find that lost hiker when he had never even hiked himself. It had been desperation and cockiness that made him think he could walk out of here, claim that reward and become the hero. He had followed the news as hundreds of people had searched in vain for the rich family's son that first day. He allowed his imagination to push him to action. He knew he could find the lost camper. He now knew he was wrong.
All these thoughts faded to meaningless back noise as the man became comfortable with his fast approaching mortality. He knew this had been a final misstep, a boneheaded play and wasted no time beating himself up. He did not even worry about what death might feel like. What it was to enter from the here and now into the hereafter. All he was concerned about was what time was it and why the Hell had he left his watch back at the car.
News Flash - Earlier today a hiker found what authorities believe might be the remains of the Hurlton's son who was lost 6 months previous when he failed to return from a day hike near Tuckerman's Ravine. It appears the victim fell some 100 feet into a ravine. The bones had been scattered by scavengers, but at least one broken bone was recovered. What surprised the Rangers was how close to the highway the remains were found. Less than one tenth of a mile to the parking area near Tuckermans Ravine. An autopsy and DNA tests are pending.
In The News - Richard Hurlton, who had been believed to be lost hiking in the White Mountains of New Hampshire eight months ago was picked up today near Brownsville, Texas as he attempted to drive a stolen car into Mexico. Traveling under the name of George Philpot from Manchester New Hampshire, he was driving Mr Philpots car. Law enforcement officials could only guess that the pending drug related charges hanging over Hurlton before he went missing were the reason. But now they are questioning him about the whereabouts of Mr Philpot who disappeared at about the same time Hurlton did.
What does this little bit of fiction have to do with my month long dedication to resolutions? At first nothing. But then I decided that it represents another commitment I made last year. To push myself and my writing in directions they have never been. Good bad or indifferent, I figure the idea is to have fun. And this piece was just that. It started with the one sentence, "He sat in the woods". One thought. And just flowed from there.