I’m hungry, Mother. Look at me. See what condition I am in? Emaciated, shriveled for how you have starved me. Feed me, Mother! I beg of you: give me nourishment. Is it not enough you have banished me to loneliness and darkness? I wish that I could die to escape these tortuous pangs that wrack my ribs, but I cannot die, can I, Mother? Arrgghh! Feed me!
David pushed deeper into the woods. There was no more perfect place to be, his favorite spot in the world. Remote tranquility, interrupted only by the whisper of the breeze in the leaves and by the rustling branches, offered the perfect serenity for solace. Carleen had given him plenty of need for solace today. Ever deeper he pushed.
Praise you, Mother! Yes, you have heard me!
There was no comfort among friends. Most days, David felt he had none. This forest and her murky solitude were his only true friends. His only true love.
Thank you, Mother! You always provide for me. Your love is my source. You have always been my vitality. I am nothing without you!
Yesterday, Carleen was his true love. Yesterday. Today, they sent him home early from work. It was a blessing, really. Better that he caught her. Better that he knew. Today, the forest was his true love. Deeper than he had ever been before. Shady, perfect, solace.
Mother! What have you sent me? A skinny little morsel of sinew? This is not sustenance! He starves as I do! Look at him! Oh, Mother, your love for me is vapid and heartless!
David relaxed and tilted his head to enjoy the moment. The quiet was so profound he could almost hear the thoughts of the forest herself. He closed his eyes and strained to hear her whispers. He loved the forest. If only she could love him back. His empty chest starved for her love. He felt her reach out to touch him, to love him with gentle, delicate branches of Cimmerian allure.
Look how willingly he gives himself to me, as if he longs for me to devour him! He is so sweet. Feel him. He is so smooth. Mother, is this some trick?
Shivers ran through him as he pictured her there. A ravishing, wood nymph, in tenebrous recluse isolation, as hungry for him as he was for her. Her fingers teased the skin at his throat. “Take me! Love me! Devour me!” he thought, trembling with the desire of her shadowy beauty.
Mother, he is precious! And so handsome! How could I ever possibly eat him?! No! I will starve another day!
David opened his eyes sadly. For a fleeting second he saw her, one thin finger lingering at his skin, and then only branches, darkness, trees. So perfect. His one true love.
© 2012 Anne Schilde