* * *
The Moose thought he heard something call out to him, to come and see. He was fairly sure of it, actually. He was nothing if not polite. If something called to him and asked him to come and see, he would go and see. Perhaps it was something worth seeing and, even if it wasn’t, a walk would be nice.
He wandered down his lovely path, fixing little things as he went until he reached the grey hard rock. This is where something called him to visit. It asked him to wait by the side of the rock, but he saw the yellow line there. It was so lovely and none of the smoky beasts were coming. It wouldn’t hurt to go and look at it up close for a moment, to admire its perfection.
He carefully walked to the yellow line. It was as lovely as ever. So lovely. He could get lost in it. He thought he might like to follow it for a while. He knew it went on as far as the grey rock did, but he did not know how far that was. For some reason, though he had always known better, he thought that today he might just like to follow it for a time. Not all the way to the end of it, but just for a time. He wasn’t even sure if it was his thought. It didn’t feel like his thought. But it didn’t matter. The line was so lovely.
He was so focused on it as he walked that he didn’t hear the smoky beast coming down the grey rock.
Lakebridge: Spring (Supernatural Horror Literary Fiction) Page 34