(flash story)

Silence reigned in the deep Carpathians. Only the wind rustled in the treetops, and dry branches cracked under the feet of two travelers.

Sasha walked ahead, with his blond hair damp with sweat, and his eyes full of determination. Behind him, Katya trudged, her makeup smeared, her summer dress stained and torn. She looked around nervously at every rustle.

“You promised a romantic picnic!” she burst out. “Instead, we’ve been wandering for hours! No water, no internet, and my feet hurt!”

“We’ll find the lake!”  Sasha insisted. “And get the best picnic place.”

Katya leaned against a tree,
“ I wanted a picnic three hours ago. Now I just want to go home…”

Sasha sighed, ready to agree, when he suddenly spotted something ahead, “Look, a hut!”

Between the trees stood an abandoned cabin, its walls covered in moss, windows cobwebbed, and roof partially rotted. Thick blackberry thickets surrounded it like a natural fence.

Katya shuddered,
“Maybe, we shouldn’t go there?”

But Sasha had already stepped forward,
“Let’s take a look inside!”

“Are you crazy?! There could be snakes or wolves!”

“Wolves? There haven’t been any for years!” he laughed, pushing the creaky door open. Darkness loomed inside. But before he could enter, a harsh voice behind them growled,

“And whose mistake is this?!”

They spun around. An old woman stood before them, a basket in her hands. Her gray hair had a greenish tint, and a wreath of wilted flowers sat atop her head. Her dress was worn and dirty, weeds tangled in the hem.

“You all trample in like ants! Cut trees, scare the hares — then wonder, ‘Where are the wolves?’ Whose fault is it?!”

“We’re leaving!” Katya stammered, pulling Sasha’s arm. “This Grandma is unsafe and…unstable.”

“Grandma?!”  the woman’s eyes flashed emerald. The wind howled, and ivy shot up from the ground, wrapping around their legs.

“Sasha, do something!” Katya screamed.

Scared Sasha yanked free and pulled Katya with him. They ran and stumbled, they fell and hopped, being overwhelmed by animal fear, with branches clawing at them and roots rising from the ground.

When they vanished into the forest, the old woman sighed. The wind died… the ivy receded…a lonely wolf loomed from afar.

“Children… Neither respect, no manners…”

Silence returned to the Carpathians.