Come With Me, Into The Woods

My parents owned a cabin once. It was a massive, sprawling place tucked away in a pocket of tall, swaying pines. If you stood outside, all you’d be able to hear was the rush of wind through the branches, the occasional creak of tree trunks bending in the breeze. It was remote, it was beautiful, and after the sun set, the darkness that surrounded the cabin was a darkness so whole, so all-encompassing, that it was almost heavy with the secrets it could hold. The silence was loud enough to make...