I went walking today. Down to the nature trail behind the old observatory.

It was cloudy, but the trail smelled like rain. I followed it deeper than usual, past where the path breaks off and everything turns wild. There’s a tree there—the bark twisted in a way that looks like a human face. I found it in one of my dream sketches from last month. Same gnarled shape. Same hollow at the base.

Inside the hollow was a charm. Like something you’d find at a roadside psychic shop. Bone, twine, red thread. I didn’t touch it. I just sat with it. And it felt like it knew me.

Or worse, that I was supposed to return it.

—Vangie