George’s eyes sprang open. The light was fading. She must have dozed off again. She had no idea what time it was, or what day, for that matter. She was lying, sprawled out, on the grass. She yawned loudly and looked around. The Wood was completely bare. She began to panic. She nervously searched for the tree 7
stump which she had remembered leaning against before sleep had overcome her. It was getting darker and she did not want to be alone here at night. It no longer felt so safe. What if the Mumtwips found her?
She willed the light to remain, if only for a short while longer, whilst she found her bearings. She stood up, her joints were stiff. She tried walking to loosen them out. She had only gone a few steps when she felt a queer sensation in her right big toe. This painful sensation rapidly traveled through her right foot and up her right leg, causing her to hop around on her one remaining good leg, clutching her foot with her hand.
She cursed under her breath. She looked to see what she had banged into but there was nothing to be seen.
Whilst hopping around in a dither, with a very sore foot, she hopped into something else, which also wasn’t there, causing her left toes to swell and then, to top it all off, she fell head first into an invisible bush.
Things weren’t going too well.
Story of my fucking life.