BRAMBLESHIRE WOODS (DAY 2, LETTER B)

CHAPTER 2

BRAMBLESHIRE WOODS

The trees were steeples piercing the skies, their gossamer branches blurred high against the dwindling light The creepers that entwined them pulsed like the dying embers of a bonfire.

Dense mists brimming with cedar and sun-bleached pine, swirled around their trunks and veiled the forest floor in billowy waves. The odor of decaying leaves and the damp moss made Goldwynn’s senses reel.

Disheveled, she scrambled to her feet, her heart racing like the devil.

The Locke mansion was nowhere to be seen! The cavern had spat her out like a bitter aftertaste. Her ears strained to hear some sign of life.

“Where... am I? Where is the Locke Mansion”. Her voice shredded the hush.

There was only silence all around paused only by the soft shivering of leaves.

She spun around, taking in the beauty of her surroundings. The Willows seemed to sway in, their branches twirling like ballerinas, leaves—a silvery shimmer against the evening glow. A swarm of fireflies bounced along-- a hem of starlights in the breeze.

Goldwynn took hesitant steps forward and walked on a path fringed by wildflowers and flat pebbles that led into the ruddy woods. The scent of Thyme and Chamomile burgeoned along the way.

A few yards into her stroll, she came upon a glade and her breath caught. A cottage stood humbly under a copse of shady oaks, its outline as soft as a feather.

The gable roof was a tangle of wild rose and honeysuckle on a quilt of ivy.

Lazy tendrils of smoke puffed its way out the chimney spilling aromas of freshly baked bread and melting butter that made Goldwynn's stomach twist with hunger.

Mingling with it was the sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Her mouth watered at the sight of an apple pie cooling on a wire rack, golden brown and glazing in a single ray of light on the window ledge.

When was the last time she had eaten? Tummy rumbling like thunder, she stood on the porch. The air thrummed with a gentle melody carrying with it the soft hum from a radio inside. Her eyes fell on the signboard swaying by the door: "The Bears".

The olive-green doors carved with Holly and bunches of Shamrock urged her to knock. She rapped on it gently, hoping for a warm welcome, perhaps a spot of tea..a good slice of apple pie even?

The knock echoed through the empty cottage. "Anybody home?"

Goldwynn’s voice faded into the forest...

To Be Continued....

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