He's In a Better Place
The feeling of being watched. That's what she'd describe it as. Alice looked across the lake's placid surface, searching for the source. A dark sheet of glass with a soft bob and sway. No swimmers, it was October now and much too cold to get in. Not even a boat broke the calm surface. The far end of the lake was surrounded by a collection of hills and crags that cast a shadow over its lush pine-covered bank. The trees were in generous bunches until a certain point--then they pricked out at odd angles like toothpicks. She stared for a few seconds, her eyes trying to make sense of the illusion. They were sticking out of the water, she realized. The tops of the trees stood tall and sharp but around mid-trunk they disappeared eerily beneath the water's surface.
