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Rated: E · Short Story · Environment · #2231853
Making one's way through an abandoned road.
A car turned off the road and its tyres crunched the wood chip shoulder.

Inside, Neil turned off the turning signals and sang the last line of his favourite song.

He felt the itch of a smoke, digging in the crumbled packet he pinched one between his fingers.

Instead of lighting it, he only gives the shaft a longing sniff, then he places the cigarette in the grove between his head and right ear.

His bones cracked as stepped out, leaning down to change his soft soles with a pair of sturdy mountaineering boots.

Fumbling around the back seat, he gets out the backpack and the metal frames and the camera equipment.

After twisting some screws he had become Neil-the cameraman. With metal beams attached to his backpack to lessen the impact of movement and shock has on the camera.

Neil now looked like a turtle as he mounted the sound recorders to their designated spots, with a swig of water he sets off.

With an earbud in, "Testing, testing." The sound came out quite well.

He then adjusted the microphone pinning to his bright red jacket.

The road, covered in fallen leaves covered in water droplets and damp branches, crunched as his heavy boots made its way along with the occasionally visible yellow lines in the middle.

The trees and bushes crowding around the road had been increasingly bold in their determination to reclaim their lost ground.

The thin mist is somewhat dissipating as a few weak beams of sunlight managed to bypass the overhead grey clouds.

Just as the woods lightened in the light's glow, through the lush green canopies Neil can see the menacing dark clouds closed all gaps of escape for the light.

Crunch, crunch.

The only sound is his faint breathing and the boots crushing everything in their path.

There is no sound of the howling wind, nor the cheerful tweeting of the fowls.

The forest seemed to be holding its breath, watching the one in vibrant colours made its way through the scar that never heals in their booming diversity.

But the forest will eventually reclaim what is theirs, the branches are already protruding into the spaces of the road.

So far, Neil sees no cracks in the dark, moist tarmac. Every breath felt like he is taking in a lungful of chilled mist, which is practically what he had been doing for the past half hour or so.

After rounding a bend, the last signal bar on his GPS gives out.

Now he is completely on his own, slowly, the sound of the forest is picked up by his ears.

The earbud in his right ear is able to listen to the amplified sound of vegetation. Such as a falling branch that crushed everything it possibly can on its spinning path.

The sound of little critters making their ways through their burrows can be quite overwhelming.

Neil rids himself of the sound amplifier and he listened to the forest with his naked ears, even without the aid of modern equipment the forest is calling out to him.

Gone was the silence an hour ago, he feels more attuned to the frequency of the aged greens.

Their voices are no longer foreign to him, he felt he is welcomed to a large family with open arms.

Then a droplet of water splashed onto his face and the resulting droplets made their way down his neck.

Neil shivered and placed an umbrella hat on his head, then as he makes his way deeper into the trees moving against the million-dollar roads.

It seemed that no matter the price tag, the magnificent manmade structures will surely be slowly taken back into the embrace of the vegetation.

The sky opens up and trillions of water drops make their way down.

Through the medium of air masses, they drifted and spun. Tackling the millions of leaves, it had created a symphony. One that is so loud that it sends one's souls vibrating with the neverending harmony of the universe.

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