Canoe Shed

The forest is thinner here, almost anemic. The grass is near death and brittle without protection from the sun. It crackles beneath your every step broadcasting your location to any local that might be listening, including other campers. All paths eventually converge on a worn-down shed, its door hanging off its hinges and what remains of a deadbolt is broken beyond repair. Outside it resembles all other cabins in camp. Those who dare venture inside the canoe shed will find signs of a struggle, shattered glass, and scratch marks litter the floor. On either side of its single room are chains that look like they might have once kept the canoes bolted to the wall, though none remain. It’s strange to see a scene so violent in a camp as peaceful as this.