Within the forest is a little pathway, it goes this way, or that way. The choice is up to you. If you take the path to the right, you pass between Holly bushes and Pine trees. If you keep following this way, you might notice a little opening, with a tall Birch tree languishing in the Autumn breeze, swishing this way and that. Underneath there be scores of tiny scribes, scribbling away, from the bright Dawn ’til the evening Dusk, reporting on the comings and goings of the forest. You won’t notice the tiny scribes, but they will notice you.

 

From the Compendium of One Hundred Word Stories

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