THE DEAD WOODS,
by Larry TrittenThe sky was bruised with carmine light, the sun a festering phosphorescent pustule as Saran entered the Dead Woods, a region of blackened, stripped, and lifeless trees standing as a bleak epitaph to the lush forest that had once grown there. No bird sang, no animals were present, and as Saran proceeded, he saw that not so much as a dung bug or cinder spider was in evidence. The air stank of flaky ash, and the ground crunched like crystal remnants underfoot. The dead trees stretched over a series of low hummocks and into the distance.
Saran was understandably eager to put the woods behind him. A sense of bane infested the area; he quickened his step. A few minutes later he was halted by the sight of two men ahead, sitting with their backs to a fuliginous tr
