The boy chased the rabbit into the black and tangled woods. No sunbeam pierced canopy, no tree forts here. His mother always said, “Stay away. It’s no place for little boys.” But the rabbit whispered his name. He followed a tight and winding path. Around a sharp corner, the rabbit disappeared. “Hello?” he called. Brambles gathered around his ankles. He bent, peering into shadows—“Rabbit?”—wanting to hear his name whispered once more. The trees hissed. A raven screamed. He turned for home, but the path he’d followed here was gone. A branch scraped along his neck, took hold, squeezed.
