The Wild Woman

I am resolved to post here more often. I let weeks go by sometimes, and that will not do.

Anyway, because I like fiction, too, here is a brief vignette in tribute to one of my fantasy goddesses:

I found it some distance from the beaten path, my shortcut growing longer by the moment. There, in a little grotto formed by a broken, rotting stump, someone had placed her. She was only about six inches high, carved from a tree branch, her body made to look lithe and attractive. Her arms stretched above her neck, but she had no head or face, only new stems and leaves growing from the old dead wood between her shoulders. Around her were nuts and berries gathered from the woods, and a squirrel skin laid like a robe about her feet. As I gazed at her, I felt the stillness grow deeper, as if the eyes of every creature of the woodland were upon me. Even the trees leaned more closely. My breath caught in my throat, I hurriedly laid my own sacrifice at her feet, and moved away from the unknown shrine. When I found the path it was welcome, the hand of other human beings clearly cut through the forest. I felt the wild close by, now, as I gathered my cloak around my shoulders and stepped more quickly on my way. I would take no shortcuts through these woods in future.