The life of Robert Laundry was quite dull. He was a man of routine and structure, but not by choice. His career as a logger of christmas trees was a seasonal one that took him away from his wife and children for a good two months of the year.This isolation in these two months was not healthy for Roberts mind. He was frustrated in his little winter cabin all by his lonesome. He wished and prayed for some excitement, some unexpected twist in his schedule. Not till the week of christmas was he permitted to join his family once more. He tallied the days on his wall like a prisoner.

“It's for your family”he would tell himself through chattering teeth, as he chopped. It was easy to see why it paid so much. Robert's only real company during this time was Calvin, the truck driver who picked up the chopped trees twice a week. Someone had to put bread on the table, so Robert stayed.



It was a crisp, fresh, pure white morning with only a week until Robert was scheduled to go home. He arose from his warm iron bed with a yawn. Even he was taken aback with the pure bright white blanket that covered his surroundings. He whistled as he dressed and marked another tally upon his wall. He was grinning with the same fresh, rejuvenated smile that covered the land. Robert felt as if the beauty of the day was reflected upon him, if it was going to smile, he was going to smile back. Still whistling his same joyous tune he practically skipped out the front door, swinging his axe all the way. He made his way a little into a new area of the woods that he had never chopped in before. He kept walking, daydreaming of his well awaited return home. An anxious grin formed upon his pink lips, like a child the night of christmas eve. He thought of hot chocolate on the couch with his wife , while he watched his children open the presents he slaved so many hours in the cold to earn.Caught in his daydream, He stumbled upon an unfamiliar road. Something caught his eye on the other side. two pairs of footprints. He was quickly snapped back to reality from his warm daydream. His sweet smile was soon replaced with one of curiosity. His glazed eyes became big and focused on the footprints. He searched around for someone to tell him to carry on,mind his own business, or get back to work. There was no one. Robert followed the footprints intently, studied them through and through, one after another. One pair was much bigger than the other and sunk deeper in the snow. At times, the footprints drifted far apart and at others, were at a normal distance. He imagined the people that filled those footprints. He imagined them hungry and cold, frustrated and lost. He could only wonder were they came from or how long they had been walking on that road before they turned off into the vast woods. He wondered what exactly they wished to find within them. He was becoming increasingly impatient, the footprints seemed to go on for infinity. It felt hopeless, just as he began to shuffle his sore feet that were not willing to put forth an actual walk, he noticed the footprints began to do the same. That's when he saw it. A crevice in the earth, probably formed by some earthquake. He looked left and right. On both ends, the crevice ran straight into the horizon, endless. The footprints were gathered. You could tell that the owners had paced up and down the edge for a long time, frustrated with their endeavor. The crevice was about six feet wide but at least a hundred feet deep. Robert was baffled,


“They couldn't have killed themselves, They made it too far to kill themselves now.” He slowly raised his head and saw the answer.

“They jumped across, of course!” he exclaimed like a mad man. He searched across the crevice for their footprints on the other side. His face went blank and his eyes became desperate as they searched. Then he found them, perfect and untouched, preserved as they were when they were pressed. But, there was only one problem, Robert felt his heart sink as the realization hit him. He kept his eyes locked on the single pair of footprints that laid on the other side of the crevice, but only because he did not want to know what laid at the bottom of it.