18.
18. "what do you think the forest is hiding?"
"i have a friend buried there." the old lady barely looks up from her cup as she answers. "she used to follow the trails past the lake, deep into the mountain. every time, she came back different, a little weird in the head. until one time she went back up there and never returned."
the young waitress is all too happy to leave behind the teapot and step away from the conversation.
"she told me stories of the forest. of the voices screaming in agony at night, begging to be set free. there are a lot of souls trapped here. you know."
a few moments pass in complete silence before the lady's son speaks up. "i found a bunch of used condoms there once."
everyone sat at the table laughs, except the old lady. she glances up at last, her expression a mix of frustration and disappointment. "kids these days... they don't respect the mountain. they think the forest is a hideout for their incessant, god-less partying. i fear... i fear the mountain might one day claim back these lands."
"alright, mom. that's enough. the mountain is just a mountain, it's not a sentient being. we're more likely to be taken over by robots than old forest spirits."
the lady sighs and sips her drink.
"the mountain is our mountain, child. and we ought to be kind to it... as it's been so kind to us in the past."
