BOY IN THE WOODS Christopher Tavarez A young boy sits in the candle’s light and gazes beyond at what lurks out of sight. Ravens stand around him, even on his head and shoulder, their wide eyes looking out into the darkness just as the boy’s own do. Poised to spot a threat, perhaps. Some consider the creatures around and on him to be pests or nuisances, but he considers them friends. Family members, even. Goodness knows he’s short on those, these days. His clothes are light, a shirt without sleeves and shorts that offer little protection. Suited for play in the daylight, not cowering in the cold of the night. It’s not the lack of heat that chills his skin, but rather the void in his chest that swallows any urge to bother with shivering or seeking heat. Why bother, at this point? He’s lost so much already tonight. The only desire left in his body is to rest here, let himself become part of the forest floor. Perhaps his bones will be discovered one day, and he’ll be the inspiration for a local legend. The boy in the woods, who’s spirit wanders on and whispers to travelers in the dead of night. Wouldn’t that be someth His thoughts are cut off by a throaty croak. He looks to the culprit, one of the smaller ravens. She pecks at the ground and crows again. Hungry. The boy in the woods sits silently for a moment, watching her search for food. Normally she would fly off, look somewhere else, as there’s clearly nothing here. But she doesn’t. He knows why. She wants to protect him. He doesn’t know why the flock came to be his allies, but after all that’s happened today, it can’t be denied. He stretches his legs, and gets to his feet, slightly jostling the males perched on him. He owes these birds, it’s unfair to sit here and make them hungry while he broods. He lets out a sighing breath, and the all-consuming apathy of moments prior is exhaled along with it. Time to find food for what family he has left.
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