There are many stretches ahead. That is what I thought to myself as I journeyed the land beneath my feet. The land beneath what I would usually refer to as home.

I took a step forward into the unknown, toward the sound of what could have been a river. I needed water. I had thirst to quench and I heard something that was beckoning to me to approach. Thus it seemed appropriate to follow.

Of course I had to admit that it could have been an illusion. If could have been a trap. It could have been anything. However, my survival was more important than the possibility of entering a trap and therefore toward the sound I approached.

Despite which, if it were a trap then I’m sure that I would be able to find a way out of it sooner or later. It just would take time.

Down the hills and following the contour lines was my mission as any other direction or following seemed to point in going the way that I did not want to go at that particular moment in time. I followed and crossed over fallen logs and open spaces until vegetation picked up its density to a point where the sky and the sun began to become blotted out, and shade and dark fed into the visibility of the area.

The sound of what could have been a river grew louder and more apparent. It was clear that something was being approached, although at times it seemed as though it was approaching more than I was approaching it.

The sky had disappeared, completely obscured by the canopy and the slope began to make the idea of trying to perceive orientation disorienting. Still, I needed to push on downward. My thirst needed to be parched and the sound that I could hear needed to have its source divined.

Further down and the cold, refreshing feel of moisture hung in the air. Or at least that is what it felt like. A dampness was around, There was some on rocks and there seemed to be a form of moss or lichen growing on some of the bark of some of the trees. I pushed on further, deeper into the thick forest that was around me. I kept on moving downward. The water on the surrounds was, to me a good sign. This was a sign that I would find a river. This was a sign that I would find a water source. I needed to make haste and get down there soon. I was dry and my body began to feel like my stomach acid was going to come up and into my mouth.

How long had it been since I last had water? It did not matter. I could almost smell the water.

And soon the river revealed itself to me. I went down and began drinking. It moved fast, it was clean and I drunk freely, until the net rose and carried me upward.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:45:41

Fiction. Hooray.

Kind of okay with this one. I think that toward the end I was trying to express a sense of urgency, but there’s no real buildup. I’d like to blame the five-hundred word constraint, but really I just need to keep on working on becoming a better writer.

Written in Redfern.