am lying alone in the dark forest, dying.
Well, maybe not actually dying-dying. Yet.
I am shivering in a rickety “lean-to” I built out of brittle branches, afraid to move, breathe or even think because a huge, snuffling animal I’m too scared to look at seems to be about six feet from my head.
Even though my hood is up and I’ve stuffed my hoodie with itchy dead leaves, I’m freezing. My Nike Air Force 1 shoes, once a proud and glistening white, are slathered in river mud. This pains me even more than my bloodied hand, throbbing head and swollen eye.
My socks are slimy and very, very wet.
I ate spiderwebs for breakfast.
I haven’t slept for days, and my mind is wandering. The cheerful phrase