mikebo

I hope all friends and family had a good Thanksgiving. Mother did a great job with dinner as usual. My brothers and I spent the night remembering stories from our childhood. Apparently I liked throwing whatever I could get my hands on into the stream out back when I was young. Sticks, rocks, carpenter tools, crowbars. Now I’m a packrat.

I found random tools and a crowbar in the woods apparently around age 5. What could they have been used for? There was an old decaying treehouse back in the woods. It looked like it had four whole walls at one point. The wood was a nasty yellow, with woodrot and mold everywhere. It wasn’t close to any homes, and it was a decent trek to get to it. I steered clear of the rotting hut, but couldn’t help but look at it. It was creepy and there had to be a story behind it. At the time I wondered what other ruins were hidden in the forest. The treehouse was all alone and I believed there must have been a house to accompany it a long time ago. The woods must have eventually overgrown the area and destroyed whatever housing existed. The trees must have pushed back up to my yard, and would eventually have overtaken our place too. The trees are still huge to an adult eye, and seemed monstrous when little. A tree fell in the yard in the middle of the night once, and I thought a meteorite must have hit the house. But I digress. I never found any other ruins, and the treehouse no longer exists. The little wolfboy that was no doubt chained inside must have escaped to the wild. The only other sign of life back there was a manhole with cover, that was rusted shut. In the middle of a forest? It lead to the mutant underground; runaway!!