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Bob sets off into the woods, since it seems as viable an option as any at
this point in time/space. "Hmm," he thinks, twigs crunching beneath his sneakers. "How does that Frost poem go again? The woods are homely, dark and deep? No, that's not right." Suddenly he hears a scream. "Rosalyn!" Bob thinks and sprints ahead, leaping across some undergrowth and rolling down a thorny hill into a little marsh. Moonlight pierces the foliage here to make the marsh seem to glow. "Ow," Bob thinks, momentarily stunned. "Bob, help me!" he hears Jesse yell. Of course - Jesse always had a very girlish scream. Bob looks up to see his colleague suspended in a net hanging from a tree. Bob's response:
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1/14/2007 12:19:27 PM
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