Chapter 1. Reflections

To be exact, headlights, and like a deer caught in a trance, I just stood there shielding my eyes from the light. What was just pure unnatural silence moments ago, is now the sound of the consistent hum of a combustion engine, and the crunching gravel as the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of me.

The once fresh cool air of the forest was quickly replaced with the foul smell of petrol, an odour that started to give me a headache.

And just as quickly as they appeared, the humming of the engine died out, and the lights were killed, only the smell lingered a bit longer. Lowering my hand, I let my eyes readjust to the darkness of the woods, with the temporary blindness in effect, I could only hear the unknown driver exit their vehicle.

"A bit early to be drinking, don't you think, Henry?" said the voice.

A smile crept up my face. "No such thing as early drinking, Bill," I replied, chucking the bottle on the ground before sitting on the wooden steps of the porch.

As Bill stepped within reach of the faint porch light, I took the moment to study his facial features. I recalled that throughout our 4 years of friendship, he hasn't changed in terms of looks, there wasn't a single grey hair or pot belly that could be seen, though the same couldn't be said for everything else in his life.

A moment of silence lingered in the air, as we stared at one another; both of us seemingly caught in our thoughts on the other. Knowing Bill, he was the scheming type, the one who's always one step ahead of everyone, just what was he thinking? What was he planning today?.

Without a word, he tossed a set of keys at me, instinctively I caught them with both hands, I stared at the keys before looking at Bill furrowing my brow in confusion.

"I figured you could do with some cheering up, so I brought the boat, we could go fish by the lake," he answered, before I could reply though, he was already walking back to his pick up.

With a sigh, I stood up, turned around and locked the front door before joining him.

The entire trip to the lake was quiet, neither of us wanted to start a conversation. With naught to do, my mind could only drift along with some thoughts. I lifted my left arm and rested my head on it, while I stared at my right hand.

The ring was gone, but it had left an imprint on my finger. A pale line of skin, a reminder of the lies, of the shouting, all of that rested on coarse weathered hands, my hands. And I couldn't help but ask myself 'Did I waste my life away?'

With the car slowing to a halt, I buried the thought instantly. Gazing out the window, I noticed that it wasn't fully morning, yet it was light enough that you could see where you were going. My wandering eyes landed on the lake, where the stillness of the water reflected the forest surrounding it, a sight I've seen countless times but was always captivating.

For me, the lake would always be a window, a window to a world undisturbed by sound or smell. A world I could see, but never touch, a world that was, well… a reflection.

Sitting by the lake was a small single-engine wooden dinghy, though considering the state it was in, I guessed that it only had a few more years before it turned into a leaky raft.

I returned my attention to the car, I noticed Bill staring at me with an emotionless face; a sight that seemed unusual but I brushed it off as nothing.

Bill was the first to break the silence between us.

"Stretch your legs for a bit, I've got to get some things ready," he said.

"Need any help?" I asked, giving him a quizzical look.

He paused for a bit before replying "No no, you go take a walk, I'll only take a minute,"

I replied, rolling my eyes, whatever he was fussing about wasn't any of my business. So I unbuckled my seatbelt, got out and took the path along the lake.

It was there where I found it. The stench was what hit me first, the disgusting odour of rotting flesh made my stomach twist and turn, but I forced the feeling down.

I don't know why, but… I just stared at it, the lifeless body of a fox, and within its jaws were what looked like an egg of some sort. Already flies had begun buzzing around the corpse, no doubt the carcass had been here for a few days.

My view focused on the poor creature's eyes, they were no longer clear...just dull, clouded and lifeless.

I kept staring; what was it that trapped me in its presence? Why couldn't I turn away? It wasn't curiosity, nor was it contempt for the creature, but pity. For within the creature's murky eyes, I saw myself; we have both worked diligently to survive, to thrive, and yet we were robbed at the end.

After finally mustering the will to move, I knelt, with one hand I grasped a handful of dirt, and spoke a few words.

"May you find rest in the afterlife," I whispered, with that I threw the dirt on it, seeing as I had no shovel, but it was the best I could do to give it the respect it deserved.

For others, this act may have seemed strange, but for myself, a man who has lived by the forest my entire life, it was the right thing to do. Because to walk away after seeing a dead creature would be an insult; to acknowledge it was to pay respect, and to remember that at one point it was a living and breathing creature was to honour it.

Standing up, I turned towards the path where I came; my walk had gone on long enough, so I made my way back.

"Ahh, you're back, I was getting worried," stated Bill, as he lent in a relaxed position against the boat engine.

"Well, geez, thanks, Mom," I joked, hopping into the dinghy, taking care not to unbalance it.

Bill just smirked at my quip, while I took my seat up front as he started the engine.

The stench of smoke poured out of the old thing before being lifted away once we were moving. The fresh breeze as we skirted across the lake was chill and refreshing.

"Cold morning, isn't it?" he shouted, his voice just barely audible over the deafening spluttering of the engine.

Without turning around, I yelled back: "Well, the sun's not quite up yet, I reckon we have a few hours till a full sunrise,"

I reached into my pockets and pulled out a flask, taking a quick swig before pocketing the brandy. I had many problems in my life, and I was proud to say that being an alcoholic wasn't among them, but I do keep a flask with me, sometimes for emergencies, or sometimes to just get my blood flowing.

We steered towards the centre of the lake and cut the engine, sliding across the surface, we left a trail of waves as we went. The sound of waves crashing upon another was soothing, one that I would never tire of.

Once we were at a standstill, I leant over the edge of the boat and stared at the water. What I saw in my reflection startled me at first, for staring back at me was an old man, a tired old man with a bit of grey in his hair and some bags under his eyes.

Is that me? What happened to that young energetic guy? What happened to him? Who was this old loser who replaced him? I shook my head, clearing the thoughts. 'Enough of that, it's time to just relax.'

I turned my attention back to my friend, "Hey Bill, pass me th-".