Stone Circle

“Cool right?” He smiles.

I had to admit he was right. I try to imagine the people who used to live here, who planted a few daffodil bulbs in the front yard. The people where gone, by that daffodils thrived. The forest had reclaimed civilization, covering every nook and cranny with moss and ferns. It’s peaceful here, like a place stuck in time, or in between time.

As I walk back to the circle, I notice other stones peeking through the debris that has settled on the forest floor. Is there more to this circle? I want to investigate, but the light is starting to change and I know dusk is approaching.

“I should head back,” I say, not feeling committed to the decision.

James looks up at the bits of sky scattered through the tree tops. “Yeah, it’s going to start getting dark soon.”

We head back the way we came. I walk with James, leading Shadow, as Winston roams the woods along the path.

“He seems to be enjoying himself,” I say with a nod in the dogs direction.

“Oh, yes. There’s much more freedom out here.” On cue, Winston spots a squirrel and takes off. James doesn’t seem worried. He has an easy confidence that I like.

For the rest of our walk, we discuss the differences between growing up in rural Maine and the suburbs of Chicago. I envy the opportunities of city life. He prefers the slow, natural pace of country life. He calls it refreshing. I call it boredom. We part ways with a promise to see each other at school.

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