Even the light had shrunk as she plunged ever deeper.
What happens when you explore too far and neglect to leave bread crumbs to guide you home again?
The adventure had begun as a lark. Bored and frustrated with the dry and mean citystreets, Francine, staring south through the misty smog, spied a far off haze of green. This was the nearby GreenBelt, also known by the more antiquated term, "Forest".
The GreenBelt was a visionary oasis and it hovered beatifically 2 or 3 miles from the city. A good walk, the old timers said. A Healthy stroll. And the marvels you could see there! Tales of luscious evergreens, towering maples, even the oldest/tallest tree left in the City! There was talk of an "Eagle's" nest and a hot stone swimming beach with a view of the tallest towers of the City. Marvels all, truly, especially for a weary cement dweller such as Francine.
Her comrades thought her adventure ridiculous; they had never been to the GreenBelt, Why should she? They tossed their trendy bangs angrily and stomped loudly on their smouldering butts. They all but forbade her to go, who was she to go exploring on her own? But this ultimatum had the effect of convincing her that an adventure was exactly what she needed. So she left.
Turning left, forward, quick right and then forward again, she made her way south passing an array of sights she had never before seen. There was the sword-swallower shop, crowded with professionals; she passed a howling antique menagerie located under a forgotten bridge. Finally she moved out of the City and located the dusty trail that led straight to the GreenBelt. Although the citizens were uniformly discouraged from leaving the City, the trail looked well worn and smooth. The sun shouted his heat throughout the air. Luckily she wore her favorite hat, a relic of the olden days emblazoned with her family's totem, a bloody eyeball.
The day grew ever hotter as she traveled and the weeds seemed to explode with their overloaded seed pods. This summer had been drier than expected, and the small insects hummed with pleasure. Or was it heat stroke?
Along the trail Francine came upon a curiosity: a walking stick stuck into the ground. The stick was as thick as a young girl's forearm and carved with spirals and black-inked serpents intertwining. She approached the stick carefully and looking around for it's owner, she grasped it. Immediately she felt a shock and experienced a sensation of falling slowly and luxuriously into a massive blackness. She let go of the stick quickly.
Whew, that was close she thought. This walking stick was one of seven that were placed around the City to keep it's inhabitants within it's borders. She inched around the mute sentinel and continued on her way.
end of Part 1
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