Purlieu
I am lost. Things are familiar and yet unknown. The sky is dark above the trees. Leaves rustle above my head. As I reach the edge of the wood, I enter a clearing. The trees extend on either side of me, but all is clear in front. I believe I see a figure far off in the distance. I head towards the edge of the clearing. The sky is becoming darker the by the minute. The temperature is dropping little by little. Rain is imminent. As I walk on, the trees on my left thin out, until only the ones on the right remain. Soon, they begin to disperse, until I am in an open field. I look for the figure I believe I have seen; surely there'd be no one else around on a day like this (this land is rarely occupied on the warmest of days). I approach a tree as the sky begins to brighten a little. There are a number of small bushes and hedges around this part of the field. I have been walking for some time and so decide to take a rest. I sit under the tree and take in my surroundings. To my right is a small spinny on the side of a hill. On the top of the hill sits a tall building, which is most likely a church. To my left is another, slightly larger group of trees. After a few minutes, I notice the sky is darkening once more, and decide to head towards the hill. It is a longer walk than I originally estimated, and once I reach the foot of it, rain is beginning to fall; only lightly at first, but once I am under the cover of trees, the rain has become quite heavy. The bare, spindly trees give me very little cover, but I find the rain somewhat comforting. A quick look to my right reveals something moving atop the hill. I edge slowly up the slope, hoping to catch up with what I've seen. Once I reach the top I find there is nothing moving in sight. A slight shiver runs through my body, possibly from the cold. Maybe the figure has gone into the church which shares the summit. I push a wooden gate aside and enter the churchyard, the rain providing a soundtrack to keep me from a possibly eerie silence. An inspection of the doors finds them to be locked. Something rustles to my side. I move quickly to look behind the church, which I find to be overgrown with nettles and long grass. The rustling continues, somewhere out of sight. Another shiver occupies my spine before a black bird flies out of a hedge in front of me. The bird - a rook or crow - glides over my head. I turn to watch it depart, and it heads down the opposite side of the hill, towards a dead tree. I head in the same direction, now soaked from the rain. I pause momentarily under a considerably tall tree to get my bearings. It is hard to see which part of the wood I exited, and impossible to tell where I entered. Large, white-cold water droplets drip from the tree's branches and land on me, prompting me to move on swiftly. I feel myself almost slip several times on the way down the hill, as the ground is now muddy from the pouring rain. At the bottom stands a lone tree. In the top of the tree sits a bird. It is most likely the same bird which I encountered in the church yard. I approach a gap in the hedge, and enter a very muddy field. It takes me a few minutes to reach the other side, but when I do, I am able to see lights on the horizon. I head towards the first signs of civilisation I have seen in days.

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