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The Way


malign

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I'm walking through the woods.

The trees are widely spaced and there is little undergrowth. It is fairly quiet, though there are songbirds calling in the trees. The path beneath my feet is soft, spongy but not slippery.

I walk for quite a while before I notice that there are no human sounds to be heard. No sign of any other people, no footprints, no childish squeals. And it doesn't bother me; I don't feel lonely.

I'm breathing, I know I am, but I don't notice any sound, any flow of air. I walk, but it takes no effort, makes no sound, does not disturb this place. I look down, but I see nothing but the path, and I am not concerned.

I've become a part of it.

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