Why am I in the field again?

Don’t recall bringing my favorite pencil with me

“Is anyone there?” I don’t hear anyone but me

Is that the shadow?

I need to leave. I need to get out. I can’t scream. I can’t move.

I can’t speak.

Something over my throat clutching my voice

It’s not a shadow at all, it’s the hiker.

But why is he dressed like that?

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Why can’t I move and wake up from this?

Brown eyes piercing me, warm eyes watching me

Please let me out I just want to wake up

He seems pleased.

But why?

Tall man with unkempt hair watching me

Am I small or is he that tall?

Opened his mouth to speak, words like dripping honey: “I am Cahoon, a man of great skill and talent in drawing.”

Let me out or let me scream please why can’t I MOVE

His lyrical voice spoke once more: “And you… are one of the great skills as well are you not?”

“No-no,”

All I could muster was a barely audible whisper

He continues with a wave of his hand, ignoring me

“You have so much talent. I’d hate for you to leave so soon. Well, we all would hate it if you left. If only you could.”

The man vanishes into thin air before me, and I still cannot move