He was quiet that fall
Withdrawn
New school, new grade
Old friends drifting away
He took to walking the nearby woods
Liking the feeling of aloneness.

One day on a whim he whittled a slingshot
Why? No clue.
He carved the hackberry wood until it glistened
Added stout rubber bands and a leather pouch
To hold the projectiles he would shoot
Acorns that’s what he used
He didn’t want to hurt anything and he didn’t
He missed every time.
But being alone
Being out in the woods
With the safe wildlife
The peace and the quiet
And an unfamiliar mind
Wandering down new pathways
Walking and healing was
Exactly what he needed.

Jim Bates lives in a small town in Minnesota. He loves to write! His stories and poems have appeared in nearly 500 online and print publications.