Thing a Week 35: The Forest of Persistence
The grassy path was long and winding and seemingly never-ending — exactly how he remembered it from his childhood. Abu walked briskly, hoping to be completely through the forest and back on the open road to Jinoda before night set in; dreams of the large, soft bed that awaited him in the Goldbear Inn helped him keep a fast pace despite his fatigue.
It’d been nearly fifty years since he’d last set foot in this forest, but every corner felt ripped straight from his memories; every tree seemed exactly as it was, every turn layered a new feeling of deja vu, every stone and pebble on the ground seemed like they hadn’t been overturned in centuries. Even the thick roots growing over grave-like mounds of protruding earth seemed like they should have overtaken the forest floor years ago — yet they also crawled in the exact same shapes, mass, and patterns that had been etched perfectly into the recurring nightmares of his childhood.
Of course, Abu had heard the local stories and myths around Persistence, the Forest That Never Changed. Everything was as it was and always would be, the poems and stories always ended. It had a nice ring to it, but rhythmic prose was never quite enough to convince him the stories were real. And, honestly, the stories were never really that good.
