he Appalachian Trail nobody local went near if they had any sense. He loved the outdoors, knew survival stuff m

ountains. Not much happened here, so Dad's disappearance w

last

ged journal. His. The last pages were just scribbles, noth

ried them in a quiet spot in our backyard, under the old oak tree. It felt stra

that stuff in the ground,

te, almos

silhouetted against

a voic

art j

tepped into

s him

t

. A smile was plastered on his face, wide an

cold. The air around

ile never wavering. "Took a wh

She stopped dead on the bottom step, her h

" she w

move towards her. He just stood there, rad

ooked like my father, but felt

naged. My v

y, mechanically, towards

ght. They were like looki

t a small, c

nother. His movements

" he said.

s gaze lingering on the humming

t was a cool

damp, earthy smell in his wake. I shivered, and it w