MICROSTORIES AND POETICS  BY  ARTHUR BRUZZONE

A B O U T
C O N T A C T
H O M E
P R O F I L E

Rustle in
the Woods

A quirk and a gaze.  A fleeing glimpse. Actually, more a personal sensation. The perception of something or someone outside of themselves.  That’s how they met. The accidental meeting of two travelers, hijacking along a highway.  Both heading West from New York.

They approached cautiously, the necessary mistrust required to survive this chosen means of travel.  A slight acknowledgement, unspoken respect for the self-assurance that evolves from constant diligence.  This, all this, clear, in sn instant.

As they settled in around a small campfire, there is a sudden rustling in the woods.

Shadows stalk, each awakens naturally from repose.  Each alert.  Their muscles grow tense. Night sounds from thicket. Seconds become minutes.


Then, just as quickly, the disturbance subsides. Their muscles relax and they turn to each other.

In the other's, eyes they acknowledge the truth they've come to accept.  Magic and danger appear as quickly as it comes, and never leaves.