Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
14 March 2011
They're standing in the Tree Boat.
There's a part of the forest where the trees are witchy and don't look nice. In the rain it's coated with fog, and we all slide down the hill on the leaves. There's no path here, but if you just walk down the bank a ways, you come to the Tree Boat. I think it snapped and burned off the massive stump just up the hill but I don't know if it was a ray of lightning or guys with saws a long time ago. It's a perfect smooth chute, dropping down the bank, all charred inside and black.
I work hard on being nice. The trees in here, maybe they are. They just don't look it. They maybe want us out. This is my favorite place, today, in the Tree Boat.
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