The Forest Line

A young man, Tom, sits slumped in an armchair, a bottle of whisky just out of reach. He dreams of a hand hitting dark wet soil and leaves, palm upwards. In his own limp hand, he clutches a crushed piece of paper, written on it is the word ‘COLLECTIONS’. A phone ring loudly. Tom wakes and picks up. An authoritative voice, Tom’s lawyer, explains that the ‘Police investigation’ is winding down and Tom is ‘off the hook’. That night Tom struggles to sleep. He can hear a voice whispering outside his room. When he opens the bedroom door, he sees damp footprints on the carpet. Confused, he examines them more closely and picks up a single pine needle. Suddenly, he finds himself outside on a forest track at twilight, surrounded by pine trees. Someone is standing much further up the track, watching. The figure turns and disappears back into the trees. As Tom follows, he notices what looks like a hand, caressing the side of a tree. A naked arm, covered in wet soil, stretches out to caress his horrified face. Tom winces. The pine needle he was holding has dug itself into his hand. When he pulls it out, he is back in his own house again. Later, Tom sits alone in a small conservatory. It is pitch dark outside and raining heavily. He works on a document. The name ‘Cassie’ can be seen autographed on the dotted line at the bottom. Then he notices something out the corner of his eye. A pale white face is watching him from outside the glass, obscured in the dark relentless rain pouring down. On the other side a deathly pale hand stretches out towards him, pressing its palm on the glass. It is full of soil and pine needles. Inside the palm an earthworm is squirming. The next morning, Tom climbs up into the forest to find the spot where the arm had reached out to him. He stays the night out in a tent, dreaming again of a hand hitting the earth, palm upwards on the soil of the forest. He hears the female voice whispering outside. When he looks out there is no one there. Tom grabs a torch and walks out, past the tree line. Following the sound of the whispering voice he trips on something. Muddy pale fingers are reaching up through the soil! The palm is full of pine needles and that dead worm. Tom wipes the earth away and sees a female face buried and its eyes open! The dirty fingers clutch Tom’s face! A wail of pain dies away amongst the endless pine trees. Tom’s phone is ringing off the hook. The answerphone comes on. His lawyer is sending round the Police right away. Behind the phone, through the windows of the conservatory, can be seen the vague shape of two people holding hands in the rain. THE END