Nora stared. Three forks, on the ground, in the shape of an arrow. Who had put them there? Matteo, she thought. He's always doing weird things, since Daddy's been away.
"MUUUUUUUUUM!!!!!" she called. "I've found the - " and then she stopped. Because she'd seen another arrow of forks, a few feet in front of her. She ran over to it, and in doing so, spotted another fork, and another. A series of forks, leading towards the bottom of the garden, and into the woods.
Here the forks became harder to find. They were nestled in the undergrowth, partly covered by fallen leaves. But Nora had eagle eyes, her father said. She found them all, and picked them up as she went. Soon she had a fist full of grubby forks. Further and further into the woods she went....
(to be continued)
I am going to write a story of some variety, long or short, fictitious or factual, every single day for a year. Wish me luck.
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