Still Life of Allister
The heat surrounded me, steadily engulfing me until I suddenly sprung awake. I felt as if I were melting as I wiped the sweat from my forehead and looked up at the beaming sunlight pouring through the top of my tent. I reached over, grabbed my pants and shirt, and leisurely got dressed. I unzipped the front of the tent and crawled out, gathering myself and moving towards what was once my firepit but since had become a pile of ashes. I restarted the fire and placed my coffee pot on it, waiting for the slow brew. I sat on the ground and leaned back on my hands, taking a deep breath and feeling melancholy. I enjoy my time alone; I spend every day pretending to care about people’s lives and carrying on small talk before returning to my small apartment alone, so I always enjoy my solo camping trips. I have always been an introvert, preferring my own company. Something about the isolation of being in the woods brings me serenity. The coffee finishes brewing. I stand and pour myself a steaming hot cup of black coffee; I take a sip and stare to my right, deciding that is the direction I will head today. I relax a bit more until the coffee is finished, grab an apple from my bag and pack up my belongings and head off to the right. I enjoy each step, sound, smell, and visual. The sound of leaves crunching under my feet and animals scurrying along as I trample through their domain. I always tend to go off paths; I love feeling adventurous and exploring places where I imagine no man has set foot before. I follow sounds and sights, going wherever I see fit. Continuing through the forest I see what appears to be a circle of chairs and tree stumps in the distance. I trudge forward, advancing toward the circle. When I get about halfway, I reach out to steady myself on a tree and touch something odd that makes me jump and pull my hand back. I then notice it’s a piece of paper in a page protector nailed to the tree. It has been there a while as it is old, weathered, and curling in on itself.