The sun woke Wojo that morning. Once he realized it was full daylight, he thrashed about for the alarm clock, knocking books off his nightstand. The digital face of the clock radio was blank. The power was off. He swore, scrambling out of bed to check the kitchen�s battery-powered clock. Eight o�clock. If he just pulled on clothes, he could make it to work on time. He glanced out the back window to see how traffic on I-279 was�
A forest had replaced the highway.
Wojo leapt back from the window, terror jolting through him. He had to force himself to look again.
Redwood trees filled half of his neighbor�s yard�the part where their house used to stand. The driveway, sidewalk, and garden gnome�smiling as if it knew some monstrous secret�stood untouched.
The forest, though, remained. He dressed, looking out various windows as he pulled on clothes. Everything out the front of the house looked completely normal�no stray trees there. The side windows showed the forest stretched east and west in a solid wall.
He used a match to light his gas range and started brewing coffee.
Had he gone crazy? No. The forest was irrational, not him. That was oddly comforting thought. External problems were, his opinion, easier to fix, or at least cope with. He tried the house phone and found it dead. So was, more distressingly, his cell phone. He stood drumming his fingers on the kitchen counter while the tin coffee pot bubbled.
A wolf trotted through the woods. A very large wolf. Pony-sized even.
Wojo made sure the doors were locked and got out his deer rifle.
He filled his travel mug with coffee, added sugar and cream, picked up his rifle, and headed for work.