After the rain, there was a mist, billowing through the trees.
"Better than the rain," thought Charles, walking out of the building, into the mist.
"Charles!", someone shouted after him, though he didn't hear.
Didn't hear and didn't care, leaving the voice behind him.
Entering the woods was like a dream, branches floating out of a soupy fog.
Faster he walked, the path somewhere beneath his dripping shoes.
Gave his all to the effort of walking.
His mind wandered, reviewing the past.
"I am Charles", he thought, "and I know where I am going."
"Just out for a walk in the woods," he reassured himself.
"Kill for a drink of water though," cursing himself for not bringing anything.
Left his water bottle behind.
Marks decorated the trees, red boxes, and blue circles.
"No," he thought, "no, no no."
On a rock, a frog's chin filled, and then deflated.
Perhaps... he should turn around, the fog swirling in a sudden sea-breeze.
Quivering, a pine needle fell, brushing his left hand.
"Read about this in a book," he thought, looking into his memory.
Save the best for last.
"Ta-da!", he shouted suddenly, jumping onto a stump and balancing on his leg.
Vanquishing his fear, he jumped off of the stump.
"We only live once," he thought.
X-rays of his imagination produced a troll's home in the stump.
"Yes!" he thought, "yes there is a troll's home in this stump!"
"Zero chance of that"; reconsidered, but still apologized for stepping on the troll's home.