The more you take, the more you leave behind. Footsteps

I rub my eyes as I wake up once again. 

It’s the same forest. Tall trees, whose yellow leaves cast a sunny dapple on the leaf litter floor, a fallen log here, a bolder there. The terrain is twisting and hilly, and I can’t see more than a few hundred feet out in any direction. I don’t know where I am exactly, nor do I remember quite how I got here. 

    I brush myself off as I stand. My knees ache like I’ve been still for days, but a moment ago I didn’t feel as though I had cast off the heavy blanket of deep sleep as I woke up. Rather, it felt only as though I had been asleep for an hour or so.

    I guess I’ll just do what I’ve been doing.

    I stumble a few steps forward, eyes glued to the dappled leaves on the ground. I need a break in a twig, a dark spot, the tear of a shrubbery leaf— anything to help me identify tracks of some kind. 

    Now that I think about it, why tracks? I’m not a hunter of any kind, and I’ve never taken a course on identifying impressions of footsteps, and yet without hesitation it was my first instinct. Maybe I happened to be a natural born hunter— perhaps the remains of some killer predatorial genetics have passed down from my caveman ancestors. Maybe I was the missing link between modern man and primal beast. 

    The fact of the matter is that I feel like I’ve done this before.

    Yeah, that’s true, but experienced or not, I can’t sense a thing. There’s not a disturbed patch of plant matter in sight; The ever-present scent of dissolving wet wood fills my nostrils, but nothing smells like a way out of this predicament; and nothing catches my ears but the sound of wind and rustling leaves. When I get out of here I will never leave a source of running water again. 

    I am just about to give up all hope. I’ve walked and walked for so long, never turning, always carrying on forward— There’s something!

    Wow. It’s better than I expected. A human foot trail cuts off perpendicular to the hill I’ve been skirting. Without another thought I bound after them. These are pretty obvious. Fresh, probably. Whoever made them can’t be too far ahead. 

    It feels like I run for hours. I always keep at least one eye on my path. The harder I look, the more clearly I begin to see the footprints. I can practically make out the tread of the boot. But man, am I tired now. I might even have to settle down for another one of those naps.

    No! Not when we’re so close. Besides, the sun’s barely moved.

    That’s true. In fact, if I hadn’t been up for hours by now, I’d have thought it was just minutes from the time I got up. The sun, still high in the sky, gently filters through the tree canopy, and turns the world a hazy tan. It’s beautiful, and perfect for shedding light on my focus. 

    I look back down for my trail, but what I see is shocking. There are not one, but two sets of footprints now. 

“Wait up!”

    I have to yell on the off chance someone will hear me. But now with this second trail, I believe they must. I know this one is fresh, given that I had only just noticed it. Where else could it come from? I keep running.

    After enough time, I begin to realize that the sun will never move. I am confident that it has been many hours since I first woke up in this forest, and yet the sun remains high in the sky. Something is definitely not right with this forest.

    Certainly, something is not right with your eyes. Focus on your prey!

    It’s true that I must follow what I have been chasing, but when I look down again I scream. 

 There are now five or six— yes. Six trails of footprints through the forest that I’m following. They’re popping out of nowhere!

    Round and round we go. I always think I’m catching up, meanwhile I’ve got absolutely nothing to show for it. The footsteps become so many that they totally obscure that there was ever any un-stomped ground to begin with. 

This can’t keep going. I’ve made absolutely sure to be as efficient and precise in finding those ahead. Now all their prints just blend into the ground like nothing was even there. 

    It is this moment when I find myself faced with the uncontrollable urge for another nap. I barely pay attention to the way my boot soles fit perfectly into impressions still left clearly marked into the earth. I am asleep once more.

    You’ll never win. Hours pass.

I rub my eyes as I wake up once again. 

It’s the same forest. Tall trees, whose yellow leaves cast a sunny dapple on the leaf litter floor, a fallen log here, a bolder there. The terrain is twisting and hilly, and I can’t see more than a few hundred feet out in any direction. I don’t know where I am exactly, nor do I remember quite how I got here.