Rectification

The sun was setting, its orange-red light spreading out over the fields and into the wood, giving a tumultuous and violent tinge to any object it touched. In the middle of the field, a lone figure was walking towards the woods in the north, with the setting sun on his left. The man, clean cut and shaven, about six feet tall, was walking with a smooth gait, slightly slouched and deep in thought. Behind him was a lone farmhouse; ahead was a small but thick patch of wooded area.
The one atypical characteristic of the man were his eyes. They were not focused up, down, left, right, or on any tangible object. They were staring off into the distance -- as if he was day-dreaming -- but they were in such rapt concentration, it would be impossible to come to such a conclusion.
The man was walking through knee-high plants, those kind that have seeds that stick onto socks when passed by. Still, the man seemed to ignore these and the buzzing insects, obviously overcome with some intense thought or idea. His clothes were beginning to become damp with perspiration, yet he had almost reached the shade of the woods.
Once he came to the edge of the woods, he snapped out of his trance. He walked around the edge of the forest, his head looking down; he stooped, picking up a walking stick as long as he was tall. It was obviously taken from one of the nearby trees, and stripped of its bark – it smelled strongly of pine sap.
He then found an opening into the pathless wood, and started to aimlessly pick his way around trees, fallen logs, and spider webs, pursuing no physical direction. The sun was almost set, the now dark-maroon light seeping in between the trees and causing nocturnal animals to stir. The man was making a large amount of noise; the forest was dry and there was no clear path for him to take, every step another bone-dry twig breaking. As he reached 300 yards into the forest, he stopped, the wood now completely black. He lifted his head, focused his eyes, and stared straight at the object on the ground no more than 2 yards in front of him.
It was a woman sitting on the ground in a meditative position, eyes closed. She got up and spoke first.
“Do you come here often?” No need for introductions.
“Only in times of need or when I want to think. Sorry for disturbing you.”
“No, that’s fine, I’m just done anyways. You can go ahead if you’d like.”
“No, that’s quite alright. I…don’t think I need to anymore. Do you mind if I walk back with you?”
“Not at all”
So they started back on the path he came in, her in the front and him behind. His eyes were no longer staring off into the distance, but were instead focused on the back of her skull, boring a hole into her innermost thoughts and experiences. As they reached the forest, both of them dropped their walking sticks simultaneously in the same spots, not missing a stride.
Within those minutes spent in the forest, the sky had gone from being illuminated with light to engulfed in blackness. The only thing giving light was the moon and the stars. Both the man and the woman were looking up at the stars, their glances reflecting and capturing the vibrant light of a foreign sun. The stars seemed to fill the man with celestial energy; as his gaze moved from each star to the next, he became more resolute than before – head higher, back straighter, steps more defined. As his gaze finally moved to the guiding star, he dropped to his knees, raising his hands towards the heavens. The woman stopped, turned around, and observed with frank earnestness. His head was thrown back, tears streaming down his cheeks. And then he let out a primal scream – half sob, half prayer and stood shaking tremulously.