• There was the light dancing jazz escaping softly from the man-- Not a man-- A boy, a boy's tenor saxophone. The notes gently fluttered in the air before fading off into light vibrato after a tie, the sound rung for a moment into the darkness that surrounded him.. Ryan King..

    The campfire that was before him crackled softly and the flames swayed and dance to the saxophone as if they were truly alive at that point. King sighed and unclipped the neck-strap and rested the instrument on his lap with his left hand atop the bell, and his right near the mouthpiece and reed.

    "Alas, I'm alone again. Sitting in these woods unknowing of what may become of me, just sitting. Vulnerable to all of nature's horror."

    He rubbed the bags under his eyes, which gave the appearance he was without sleep for a good number of days, but soon the call and the sour lullaby of sleep drew him within her clutch and pulled him away .