Narrator: Natalie J. | Utah, USA
I took a short trail alone because I was tired of waiting for friends to become the sort of people who wanted to hike. It was well marked, easy, and busy enough at the start.
After a bend I found a marker pointing uphill. A blue painted arrow on a wooden post. I followed it for ten minutes and came to the same post from the other side.
I recognised the split in the wood. I had caught my sleeve on it. The arrow now pointed downhill.
I stayed put to drink and look at the map I’d saved. While I was looking down, the post made a short grinding noise. It had turned towards the narrow gap between two rocks.
I watched long enough to see the soil shift around its base. No breeze, no loose footing. The arrow moved another inch.
I retraced my steps. The route back seemed much shorter. At the parking lot a woman asked if I’d seen her husband, who had gone ahead to check a turning marked in blue.
I told her exactly what I’d seen. She looked at me as though I was being cruel, then walked past me towards the trail. I went to find a ranger. I don’t know whether they found him, and I feel cowardly for never checking.
