The
rst time I heard that chiming
Macaw's song, I stood just outside the entrance to a theatre of winding timber, shaded by never-ending canopies of vibrant green foliage. I remember the mouth of the damned stream that owed towards me, mu ing the avian tune; its super cial state of serenity, its tranquil trickery, its plotted placidity. In my warranted ignorance, I failed to recognize an unstoppable force brewing beneath the sedated surface. And so, machete in hand, I broke the rst layer of frond and ora. Five feet, ten feet, and deeper, I marched. I halted for a second just to see my trail. A golden sun fell from its celestial nest, breaking beyond the horizon. Blinding beams of fragmented light fought for a path, squeezing through the ever-so-small holes between bushes. As my monstrous blade continued its slashing course, I moved parallel to the stream, hoping the clear and calm ow would aid my direction on this trek. With every step, I planted my boots deep into the marshy oor, evading rocks, stones, and the occasional slithering serpent. Suddenly, my Machette failed, dulled by the hard bark which had been biting bitterly into its once cutting edge. Grasping onto the long handmade handle, I put the sword to work for one last swing, anxiously hoping that it would slice cleanly through the dense foliage; instead, however, it continued to resist. "Can't go any further," I thought to myself as that rich luminescence tucked behind its worldly crest, unsheathing a cloud of darkness over the jungle. ⼀⼀⼀⼀⼀⼀ When I turned around to head back, however, it was only logical to deny what appeared before me. The jungle, as if alive, extended its natural limbs, replenishing what I had cut and rendering my path useless. I couldn't believe it. Trapped. A panorama of once verdant frondescence, now made more ominous by a cloak of blackness, blurred my vision. Small beads of sweat began to form; with every thud of my rapid heart, skull pounding from its hammering beat, they crawled down my skin. My breathing became erratic, uncontrollable, dominated by disbelief. "The stream," I remembered excitedly, "I just
fi
fl
fl
fl
fl
ffl
fi
fi
need to follow it back!" And so, I ducked through the organic extremities, following the sound of that
