Over There Lies The Green ** Part Three **

There stood Francine, forlorn and lonely and lost in the midst of the mysterious GreenBelt.  She stared into the denseness of the forest to her left, to her right and then straight ahead.  Behind her lay the not-so-well worn path home that her Pocket OracleR  had just advised her to take.  Peering through the trees she could just make out the inhuman towers of the City.  She envisioned the dusty dry city with it's aimless walkers and random rolling garbage and she shuddered.  She wasn't ready to go back to that, not yet.  Francine you see, had that fluttery sensation in her upper intestine that told her her adventure lay ahead, as yet undiscovered and still to be experienced. She couldn't turn back now.


Thrusting the Pocket OracleR into her pocket she decided to blaze a trail for herself.  How hard could it be? She scouted along the ground and selected a sharpish stick.  With stick in hand she plunged forward into the forest, into the least plant occupied quadrant visible to her.


As she moved deeper and deeper into the forest she smelled more and different scents; rotting nature, a little too sweet and pungent; cool ancient trees that smelled like her old grand-dad's closet; secret dankish ponds that made her wrinkle her nose.  There were skittering air bugs and strange noises in the green to the right and left.  Francine had never experienced  such solitude.  She felt as if she were the only hairless creature walking on two legs left in the world.  It was terrifying, but she also wondered if she would ever crave the companionship of her fellow Citydwellers again.  It was as if she had always been alone, on this path, as if she always would be on it, as if it might never end.  And she was happy.


Continuing on Francine entered a clearing with a grassy lawn ringed about with too tall birch trees, white and mottled and variously crooked.  Obviously a magical spot.  She had a sudden mad urge to take off her cramped Hike-a-little shoes and run barefoot on the grass.  Her socks were sticky and fragrant, in a bad way.  The ground was green and so cushy, so soft! She ran in laughing circles, pulled an inelegant cartwheel and toppled to her back.  She stared at the sky and noticed the sun was a lot lower.  She traced it's path from east to west with her forest whacking stick.
She had no care for the time.


Suddenly her scalp began prickling and she felt watched.  Here? Who? Turning swiftly she faced the watcher as he sat quietly staring at her from a close-by stump.  How did she miss him before? Had he seen her bad cartwheel? Her heart beat so hard it made her dizzy.  Gripping the earth she said,


"Who are you and what're you doing?" in one rush of a breath.


"I could ask you the same question," he said in a hushed manner, flicking open his knife.


end part three**********