Alexandra Baker

We mustn't touch what isn't ours.

I continued stumbling through the dark. Snow covered the ground and adorned treetops, muffling my steps and heavy breathing as I made my way up a particularly steep hill. The torch I had craftily affixed to my beanie with various pins and tape, threw columns of pale light through the dense trees but the constant movement of the light played tricks with my eyes and every few seconds I would turn and stare at spots I could have sworn moved without invitation.