Wicked Nix

Wicked Nix — page 5
I climb higher in the old oak until I can see over the tops of the trees I look in one direction all the way to Grandfather Mountain I look in the other direction all the way to the village where the peoples live Nothing seems wrong Below me the green forest sways in the wind The crooked road winds through it like a scar I scan the road up and down I hate the idea of a people on it but that is allowed as long as they keep moving No There is no one Knock Knock Knock There Over by the abandoned cottage I see him A little people the size of an ant He’s not on the road where he is allowed He is in the forest There is a people in our forest 2