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There’s a little village, not far from here. Nowhere special, you’d call it ‘between here and there’. There’s a long road that stretches round about it and the people dwell on one side and nature dwells on the other. They each have their ways and they all live together in peace.

Halfway up the road or thereabouts, on the left as you come from the Old North road, there’s a layby, a stopping point. Therein lies the entrance to a tiny forest (by the haughty standards of forests at least). But big enough for a person to get lost within.

 

From the Compendium of One Hundred Word Stories

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