Lost

He carved his sign into the tree again. The knife was beginning to look the worse for wear, but he couldn’t think what else to do.

He set off at random. He’d tried keeping track of directions at first. He’d long given up on that. The leaves crunched underfoot. He wondered if the sun was up.

He glanced back at the tree he had marked. He could still see the pale slash in the bark, at least for now. It wasn’t so upsetting that the marks kept disappearing, really. It was that they all seemed to be the same tree.