Tom squinted at his phone screen, struggling to read the message. The sun had come out that day - a cold, early spring sun - and the light’s reflection off the screen made the words difficult to decipher.
They had spoken the night before - Sarah and him - exchanging idle chatter about their weekend plans and all the other meaningless things people said just to fill the silence. Sarah wasn’t sure whether she would have time to see him and already then Tom knew he would likely be met with yet another rejection. And he was right.
“Sorry.. forgot that I’d already made plans.” She texted him that morning, and Tom did not bother to ask what those plans were, or, more importantly, who they were made with. He took one last pull from his cigarette and threw the butt into the paper cup where the remains of his coffee had already gone cold.
He should go on a hike, Tom decided. The day started with a promise of sunshine and calm weather, and he needed to clear his mind. The thought of being outdoors recharged him, but scrolling through the nearby trails on his favourite hiking app, he realized they all felt too familiar, too close. He needed to try something new, go somewhere where he had never been before. Tom extended his search, venturing out further and further from where he lived.
The Black Creek and Marsh Loop promised almost twelve kilometres of uncharted territory, starting in a shaded grove and encircling a wetland that lay hidden between the trees. According to the description, it would take three hours to complete. Strangely there were no ratings available for that trail.
Even better, Tom thought. He could be the first to explore it. Three hours might prove to be a challenge, but he needed the exercise anyway.
He drove for over an hour to reach the trail, but when he arrived at the location - following the navigation provided by the app - he found no parking lot, no signs or markings. “Turn left” the voice of Google Maps instructed, and Tom found himself on a dirt road that ended abruptly in a field. He switched over to the hiking trail map again and though he felt he was in the middle of nowhere, it indicated that he was in the right place. Tom shrugged and set out on his way.
He walked through a field for a while, following a narrow path on the yellow grass. Scattered isles of snow still covered the ground here and there but the trail appeared trodden and easy to follow. He kept looking at the navigation on the app as he walked, not sure that he was in the right location, but the trail that his trajectory was drawing on the screen seemed to align with the area’s map. The day kept getting warmer, what was left of the morning clouds were slowly drifting away and leaving a bright blue empty canvas, as if encouraging him to go on. By the time he reached the line of trees, his hesitation was forgotten.
The forest was mostly made out of pine and spruce trees that kept their green mantle even in the face of harsh winter. The greenery was a welcome sight after months of nothing but white and gray, and without noticing it - just like the clearing sky overhead - so did Tom’s mood brighten. Thoughts still plagued him, torn bits and pieces, but they were getting distant, less substantial, until they were completely forgotten and for a while his mind was pleasantly blank. The memory of his conversation with Sarah was gone, along with any feelings of frustration he was desperately trying to ignore, and instead, each sight - every leaf, spot of sunshine and rustle carried from the tops of trees - captured the entirety of his attention.
Tom was so absorbed in his surroundings that he did not notice how the trail disappeared beneath his feet, and when he awoke from his daydreams, it was too late.
He must have been walking for about an hour when he stopped to look around. He was still in the shade of the towering evergreens but the ground was barren of markings. The trees huddled closer together, and the fallen branches and rocks made it challenging to navigate between them. The strangest thing happened when Tom reached for the hiking app on his phone - the trail was nowhere to be found.
At first he thought that he must have closed the navigation tab accidentally, or more likely, absentmindedly, but after both his attempts to look it up by name proved futile, Tom began to doubt.
He tried Google Maps instead but the blue dot indicating his location on the map refused to appear even though the lines on the phone indicated he had reception. Frustrated, Tom turned to retrace his steps. If he went back the way he had come, he was bound to find the trail again. He walked for a while, holding to the certainty of his decision, but no matter for how long he walked, the land around him did not seem to change, green needles and crunching branches were all that he saw.
Tom swore under his breath. It didn’t make any sense. He stopped and scanned the forest around him, determined to find a hint for his way out when he thought he saw something move between the trees, a flicker of blue. It appeared and disappeared again, moving further away whenever he got closer.
Tom rushed forward, hoping it was a sign of someone’s presence. It seemed to come closer at times but when he thought that the person would appear from behind the next tree, the apparition was gone again.
“Hello?” Tom’s voice echoed through the stillness, tired of the chase. Silence hung heavy in the air and for a moment and Tom was beginning to doubt his own senses. But then, as if materializing from the ether, a voice spoke from behind him.
“Did I scare you?” The words, spoken by a woman, caught Tom off guard, causing him to swiftly pivot on his heels.
She was draped in a blue coat that blended with the hues of the surroundings. Mud adorned her hiking boots, evidence of her journey. Her long, wavy tresses cascaded freely, framing a warm smile that graced her full lips.
Tom laughed nervously. “Maybe just a little bit,” he replied, a flicker of amusement in his eyes, “Actually, I think I might have lost the trail.”
“That’s easy to do here, but lucky for you, I know the way,” she said, and, motioning for him to join her, started manoeuvring between the trees with a graceful stride, following an invisible path that apparently only she could see.
Tom hurried to follow her lead, his eyes still darting to his phone in a futile attempt to locate himself on the map. As if sensing his lingering uncertainty, the woman glanced over her shoulder, a playful glint in her eyes, and uttered, “Just let go of the phone already and trust me.”
Tom stowed away his device, quickening his pace until he walked alongside her.
“The trail disappears for a while, apparently it’s not a very kept one, but we’ll pick it up again soon.” she explained, answering his inquisitive gaze.
Observing the untouched nature around them, Tom remarked, “Looks like not a lot of people come here.”
“They’re afraid to get lost,” she shrugged in response.
“And you’re not?” Tom couldn’t help but inquire further.
She answered with an extended, meaningful stare that eventually broke into a laugh.
“I’m Tom, by the way,” he offered, smiling back.
“Daphne,”
They walked in silence for a while. Tom persisted in scanning his surroundings, desperately seeking any sign of the elusive trail that Daphne seemed so confident about. Yet, the ground bore no markings, and the horizon offered no guidance for a clear path ahead.
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“Do you usually hike alone?” Daphne broke the silence, redirecting Tom’s attention back to her.
“So it seems,” Tom said.
“I mean, do you actually prefer to hike alone?” Daphne corrected herself.
Tom deliberated for a moment. The question danced dangerously close to the realm of his relationship and he wondered if divulging such detail would be wise, sensing a subtle blend of casualness and flirtation in Daphne’s demeanor.
He decided to steer clear of unnecessary disclosures, but found himself speaking candidly - almost involuntarily - unsure of what had caused the outburst of honesty.
“Not that I prefer it, exactly,” he began, his words flowing of their own accord “But, recently the relationship I am in is not in a very good place, which leaves me a lot of time to spend on my own.” He couldn’t fathom why he had opened up like that.
Daphne watched him intently, the look in her eyes penetrating, “That’s too bad,” she said.
“Maybe,” Tom shrugged, a touch of ambivalence in his voice, “Maybe not. I mean, I’m a little on the fence about it.”
“Does she know that this is how you feel?” Daphne asked.
A cascade of fragmented memories flooded Tom’s mind, a puzzle of half spoken words and fractured confessions, hints he had spent hours analyzing, long after the conversation had ended, and the ever growing apathy that followed each failed attempt at communication.
“I think she suspects,” Tom said at last, “But we’ve never had a real, open conversation.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s too broken to fix?”
He had to change the subject, Tom decided, switch the focus from himself and Sarah and ask Daphne something back. However, before he could redirect the conversation,Daphne abruptly halted and only then did Tom realize that the forest around them had given way to a marshy expanse adorned with yellow weeds.
“Looks like we still haven’t found the trail,” Tom observed.
Daphne pointed towards the horizon, where a line of trees emerged. “It’s right beyond this section,” she reassured him. Tom followed her gaze, and for a moment he thought he could catch a glimpse of a parting in the trees, hinting at a potential corridor that might lead to the lost trail.
“Is there a way around?” he asked, to which Daphne responded with a smirk.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little mud.”
Taking a few steps forward, her boots sinking slightly into the soggy ground, she turned toward him, smiling. “See? Nothing to worry about,” she said nonchalantly, and Tom couldn’t help but think that he liked her smile too much to let her down.
The ground felt unstable under his feet, each step carrying a faint sensation of sliding, but Tom told himself that he had hiked more treacherous terrain before and there was a hint of a promise in Daphne’s smile, a promise he couldn’t easily dismiss.
“So you’re not happy with your girlfriend, yet you never really told her what’s bothering you, and you’re not sure you want to?” Daphne said, diving back into the conversation and looking at him inquiringly.
Tom turned to her, surprised, “It sounds bad when you put it that way, but it’s not all black and white, there are good things too.”
“Sounds like you lose yourself not only on trails.” She observed.
“Fair enough,” Tom admitted. He had already said more than he intended and Daphne was giving voice to questions he was not ready to answer, “And how about you?” he asked, eager to change subject.
“What about me?” Daphne playfully teased, the flirtatious undertone in her voice no longer concealed.
“Do you hike alone out of preference or do you just not have someone to hike with?” he asked, mimicking her tone. As he awaited her response, Daphne’s previous words echoed in his mind. She had mentioned his girlfriend, though Tom wasn’t even sure if he ever used the word. For all Daphne knew, Sarah could have been his wife. But he dismissed the thought, attributing it to a casual choice of words, one Daphne likely gave little thought to and so should he.
“I like hiking alone. You get to meet interesting people along the way.” Daphne answered at last, smiling sweetly.
“And doesn’t that make your boyfriend jealous?” Tom asked in feigned seriousness, expecting a laugh in return, but instead Daphne abruptly stopped, causing Tom to nearly stumble into her.
“Would it really make a difference to you if I had a boyfriend?” she asked, her question carrying an unexpected weight and he couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. Her voice deepened, and the atmosphere around them morphed, no longer light and playful but heavy and disconcerting.
He struggled to find the words, momentarily speechless, but Daphne did not await his reply. She took a step closer, and then another, until their bodies were nearly pressed together, her fingers brushing against his arms, light and fluttering.
Tom felt his mouth turning dry. Daphne’s presence felt ethereal, as though she was made of mist, enveloping him but not truly touching. Her hair carried the scent of moss and now that they were staring deep into his, mere inches apart, Tom could see that her eyes were a deep green he had never seen before.
“I think you don’t really care about that,” she whispered, leaning closer, her breath warming his skin, “And lost is exactly what you want to be,”
Tom closed his eyes in time to feel her lips delicately meet his, but before he could wrap his arms around her, she pulled away. He blinked, confused, watching her intense glare gradually transform into a smile. Without averting her eyes from him, she began to move away, slowly retreating while walking backwards.
“Wait,” Tom said, acutely aware of the cliche that coated the word, yet unable to find anything more fitting. He hurried to follow her, and she hastened her pace, seemingly amused.
With a wet, muddy sound, Tom yanked one foot free from the ground, only to find the next step growing more difficult. It could have been his imagination, fueled by the strange turn of events, but each stride seemed to sink deeper into the mud, which in turn grew softer, sticker. Tom pressed on, putting more force into each step - which immediately made Daphne mirror his pace - but the resistance of the marsh matched his efforts.
“This is not funny, Daphne,” he called to her, panic beginning to build up in him, “I think I’m stuck.”
Daphne stopped and gave him a sorrowful look, her smile fading, “Not stuck, only lost. I wouldn’t have come if you weren’t.”
“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded, knowing she wouldn’t answer.
The ground tugged at him, and extracting one leg out demanded an extraordinary amount of strength. When it finally broke free, his balance wavered, causing him to plunge face-first into the mire. Palms pressed against the slick surface, he hoisted himself up, only for his legs to sink deeper. When he glanced back he realized with terror that his body was almost halfway submerged.
Tom wiped the mud off his face with the back of one hand and opened his mouth to call out to Daphne again, to scream for help, but the sight before him made him stop. Daphne glided across the marsh effortlessly, as if treading upon solid ground. The sludge refused to ensnare her boots or drag her down. She had turned away from him, drawing nearer to the point where the march seemed to end and the line of trees began. It suddenly struck Tom that the opposite bank appeared much farther away mere moments ago, and the thought of how close he was to stable ground intensified his frustration.
The sight of familiar terrain - the firmness of the soil and the presence of trees - ignited new energy within Tom, and he surged forward again, crawling, kicking, determined to break free from the clutches of the swamp. This time he could sense the murky, viscous water tugging at his legs, beckoning him toward its chilling depths, and the slithering touch made him think of serpents. The final struggle left him submerged up to his waist and the strange currents below now held him with undeniable force.
On the other side, Daphne stopped before a tree, resting her hands against the bark. She turned to look at him, offering another sorrowful smile - a gesture tinged with an almost apologetic air - and the panic subsided, an eerie calm taking its place.
It felt like drifting into sleep. Tom’s limbs grew leaden, and a gentle weariness crept over him, making it difficult to keep his eyes open. Was he drugged? The notion lazily fluttered through his mind, not with anger, but rather curiosity. And then, another thought seized him - this wouldn’t have happened had Sarah joined on his venture. He wouldn’t have been willingly led astray by a stranger. He thought of Daphne’s words and they seemed amusing all of a sudden, she wouldn’t have come if he weren’t already lost in a labyrinth of his own making.
Daphne was the last sight that he saw, and in that fleeting moment her visage transformed; her hiking boots vanished, and she stood barefoot on the ground, adorned in a verdant dress, as if woven from strands of seaweed, half translucent. Leaves and flowers were intertwined with her hair, which flowed all the way to her feet. She was no longer a woman, flesh and blood, but something else, assuming an otherworldly form. There was an urge to convey some final words to her, some parting sentiment, but in the next breath she melded into the tree before her, dissolving into the trunk, and then, the swamp devoured him whole, erasing all recollections and sights.