Deep into the Woods (478 words)

Devadasan wanting to reach his village early took a shortcut through the wood instead of the regular and long road. He aimed to cover what would have taken two hours by road in half the time. It was only 4 PM, and the day was bright. The forest was alive with the sounds of birds chirping overhead, squirrels darting between the trees, and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. With no fear or second thoughts, he ventured deeper into it.

After an hour had passed, an unsettling silence crept in. What he had once felt vibrant and alive now seemed ominous still. The leaves hung motionless, the squirrels had vanished, and the birds' songs had fallen silent. As darkness swiftly enveloped the wood, a wave of anxiety and fear washed over him. Instinctively, Devadasan made the sign of the cross with his hand. He stood at the crossroads of indecision, with several forks in the pathway, unable to go back and too afraid to move forward.

Scanning his surroundings, he spotted a faint glow in the distance. a dim light, filtering through the trees. He was unsure whether to proceed towards the dim light till he saw a faint sign of a cross there. Driven by hope and faith not knowing what else to do, he pushed through the thick underbrush until he reached a small, solitary hut. He called out twice, but only silence greeted him. With caution, he eased the door open and peered inside. To his surprise, the hut was empty. In a corner, there was a tiny oil lamp flickering weakly, casting a long shadow across the mud floor. A pot of water sat beside it. Besides a charpoy, there was no other sign of life or habitation.

He waited, expecting someone to return, but no one came. Exhausted, he lay down on the cold, hard bench and soon drifted into a deep sleep.

As dawn broke, the world seemed to come alive. The birds had started singing again, and the squirrels had returned, running and sprinting playfully across the dewy grass. Devadasan woke up, confused but calm. The eerie night felt like a distant nightmare. He glanced around for the lamp and the pot of water, but both had mysteriously vanished. Startled, he found himself sitting on the floor with no charpoy in sight. He began searching the small hut, looking for any trace of what had happened. He came away from the place only to find to his great horror a tall anthill a few yards away.

Quickly he moved away and saw a branch of a tree hanging horizontally across a small tree, that he mistook as a cross the previous night A slow smile spread across his face. There was now gratitude in his heart, joy in his mood and a spring in his walk towards his village.