74. The Wooden Birds “Long Time to Lose It” Two Matchsticks [Barsuk]
“I’ve got a good look at losing right.”
Little fires sprang up one after the other forming what could only be construed as a trail, or so she presumed. After all, she was lost and was on the brink of hyperventilating, praying to a God she wasn’t sure existed and trying to gain control of her lungs and legs enough to keep moving forward. The woods at night were far more intimidating than they were in the daytime to her - and not just because of the lack of light. It was the cacophony of quiet and simmering sounds around her that really got her off her game. Crickets chirping, cicadas buzzing, and the wind cooing were all culpable, but it was especially the crackling and sparking of these tiny flames that appeared out of nowhere in a slight zigzag formation that got on her nerves the most, even if they hopefully were leading her somewhere. That was the thing; as she looped her thumbs through her backpack straps and started following the mysterious oranges and yellows, she really didn’t care if she wound up back at her campsite. What concerned her more was just getting rid of this feeling of being swallowed and missing, a feeling which she would happily escape regardless of what the alternative was.
