Painted Sins

ation was still miles away. He knew he should turn back soon-nights in the wilderness could be dangerous. Yet something a

t in his car. His friends had tried to reach out, but he couldn't face them. He couldn't explain what was wrong when he didn't fully unders

top of the hill and paused, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. The view before him was breathtaking-an endless expanse of trees stretching toward the horizon, their tops

the longer he stared, the more certain he became. There was a small cabin nestled in the valley below, almost hidden among the trees. It hadn't been marked on his map. Cu

deeper into the forest, the sounds of the day-birds chirping, wind rustling-began to fade, replaced by the quiet hum of

shuttered, and a thin wisp of smoke curled lazily from the chimney. Whoever lived here wasn't expecting visitors. Ben hesitated. Maybe he should

the middle of nowhere? For a moment, there was no response. Then, slowly,

voice surprisingly steady for som

-well, I saw your cabin from the hill, a

"Curiosity can be a dangerous thing out here. But since

. A worn chair and a simple wooden table were the only pieces of furniture. On the wall hung old photograp

man said, sitting across from Ben

th spreading through him. "I've been walking

knowingly. "Ah, run

acy. "Yeah," he admitted. "But I don't rea

ny thing about running. The farther you go, the more you re

man's words hit too close to home. He sta

n continued, "you'll have to face it eventually.

from his fears, his doubts, his failures. But here, in the silence of the woods, there was

ir sweeping in. "The night's getting late. Best to find yo

As he stepped outside, the man's words echoed

n said, turning

miled. "Safe

less like a place to hide and more like a space to confront the things he'd been avoiding. He