Promenons-nous dans les bois( Strolling in the Woods)
by Joyce Asante
Prologue
The woods were calling to Eddie as he walked his usual path near the forest edge. At first, only birdsong and rustling leaves broke the quiet. But then he heard something else - faint but growing louder with each step.
Children singing.
He stopped to listen more closely. Through the dense foliage, the familiar lyrics of "Promenons-nous dans les bois" carried on the breeze. But this time, the playful nursery rhyme carried an edge of fear:
"Promenons-nous dans les bois, pendant que le loup n'y est pas. Si le loup y était, il nous mangerait, mais comme il n'y est pas, il ne nous mangera pas."
Eddie knew that song well from his work, yet never like this. An unexplained pull urged him onwards as alarms rang in his mind, warning of unnamed dangers deeper in the forest. But the children's melody spoke of loss and longing that stirred something deep in his own memories.
Steeling his nerves, Eddie continued down the winding path. Sunlight dimmed under the thick canopy as trees closed in, muffling all sound of the outside world. Only the rhyme guided his footsteps now, growing ever more haunting the further he went.
Soon the trees parted into a small clearing. At its center, three children stood with their backs to him, still singing obliviously. As Eddie drew near to offer help, shadows shifted strangely at the treeline. When he turned again to the children, their faces were obscured – familiar, yet not.
A crack of snapping wood jolted Eddie awake, heart pounding. Dappled sunlight filtered through his window as reality sank in. But fragments of the vision, and that unplaceable nursery rhyme, lingered far into the day.
Excerpt from Promenons-nous dans les bois © 2023 by Joyce Asante