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Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh Pal
The freaky woods of the dark
The forest was quiet this morning walking with my dog, jack. The sound of a slight wind in the trees, cries of birds, and the patter of jack’s paws on the forest floor running here and there sniffing, and rushing after small animals. Those small animals always seem faster than jack and get the better of her. Off in the distance we heard the church bells rung eight of the clocks. We were a little later than normal when we set out. A mist was rising in places, from last night’s rain. Cool, the humidity began to bead. I stepped over piles of leaf litter and cones washed throughout the path in piles. Looking at the streams, they seemed excited, dancing over the rocks. Coming between a couple of large boulders supporting tall, waving trees whose roots gripped like fingers to the rock, we saw an old man. The smoke from his small pipe drifted upward as he sat on a rock. I noticed his clothing was unusual. The path led us to the man; as we approached, jack little wary but tail wagging, he looked up and smiled. After a friendly greeting we began to talk. “My wife will be along soon,” he said. “She's a wonderful woman. She loves dogs. She'll like this one.” The man scratched jacks’ ear as she got closer to gingerly sniff his trousers. “Is she a mutt?” I told him what I believed was jacks varied ancestry. We discussed that the day was quite beautiful despite the mist, maybe because of it and how this was. this book contains so many interesting stories in
Guru Prasad Swain
The freaky woods of the dark
The forest was quiet this morning walking with my dog, jack. The sound of a slight wind in the trees, cries of birds, and the patter of jack’s paws on the forest floor running here and there sniffing, and rushing after small animals. Those small animals always seem faster than jack and get the better of her. Off in the distance we heard the church bells rung eight of the clocks. We were a little later than normal when we set out. A mist was rising in places, from last night’s rain. Cool, the humidity began to bead. I stepped over piles of leaf litter and cones washed throughout the path in piles. Looking at the streams, they seemed excited, dancing over the rocks. Coming between a couple of large boulders supporting tall, waving trees whose roots gripped like fingers to the rock, we saw an old man. The smoke from his small pipe drifted upward as he sat on a rock. I noticed his clothing was unusual. The path led us to the man; as we approached, jack little wary but tail wagging, he looked up and smiled. After a friendly greeting we began to talk. “My wife will be along soon,” he said. “She's a wonderful woman. She loves dogs. She'll like this one.” The man scratched jacks’ ear as she got closer to gingerly sniff his trousers. “Is she a mutt?” I told him what I believed was jacks varied ancestry. We discussed that the day was quite beautiful despite the mist, maybe because of it and how this was. this book contains so many interesting stories in.
The freaky woods of the dark
The forest was quiet this morning walking with my dog, jack. The sound of a slight wind in the trees, cries of birds, and the patter of jack’s paws on the forest floor running here and there sniffing, and rushing after small animals. Those small animals always seem faster than jack and get the better of her. Off in the distance we heard the church bells rung eight of the clocks. We were a little later than normal when we set out. A mist was rising in places, from last night’s rain. Cool, the humidity began to bead. I stepped over piles of leaf litter and cones washed throughout the path in piles. Looking at the streams, they seemed excited, dancing over the rocks. Coming between a couple of large boulders supporting tall, waving trees whose roots gripped like fingers to the rock, we saw an old man. The smoke from his small pipe drifted upward as he sat on a rock. I noticed his clothing was unusual. The path led us to the man; as we approached, jack i
