Blocked Exit

We have collected enough pieces to know that wholeness is a decoy. Hold hands so that when you run out of natural light none will be lost. Previous traveling companies have attempted individuality in a forest that eats radio signals. A callous game is made out of stepping over their bones. When the cold sets in, enemies will huddle together against the exotic shrieks that pierce the canopy of midnight. Remember that any sort of back-pedaling brings you in range tender footed malice. Hunger does not announce itself or else it would not be satiated. Maps are little more than a reason to allow trackers a chance to close the distance. While you trace blue and red lines that you do not understand on a crumpled up paper, the woods improve it's numbers of nocturnal opportunity. The novenas are burning low, and the aching communities will retire back to their warm beds. The balloons that decorate memorial sites begin to deflate. The terror of eyeshine competes with your flashlight. They will not return your greetings so muffle your hello. Pocket knives and bear spray will only prolong the inevitable. The circling helicopter is a final act of regional politics. Your closest friends already know.