short story 1 - The Bog

The lake Chuck lived on was not always a lake, it was once a swamp.  In the 1800's the shipping industry flooded the swamp with water from the great lakes to the north  in order to support a national canal system - before technology made them obsolete, the canals were the fastest and most efficient want to transport goods.  When the swamp was filled with water, a small island floated to the surface on the north side of the lake.  It was an island made of bog pushed down by a slow moving glacier drifting southward at the end of the last ice age, flattening northern Ohio in it's wake before finally melting.  The bog island was unique to the region because it had flora that was only found far to the north in Wisconsin and Canada.  Because of the fragility of the place and fear of erosion, any human contact with the island was strictly forbidden. 

Chuck stared out from his dock one evening and pondered.  Every day he looked at the island with mild curiosity but on this day, his musing led him into an inevitable conclusion... he decided he HAD TO GO THERE.  Someday nature would have its way and the island would be gone forever - all things pass, and so too would his opportunity to set foot on this ancient sacred place.  Knowing the noise from his boat motor would draw the suspicion and ire of his neighbors, he slipped over a few houses down where someone had an old sail boat.  The sail boat was not well-kept but it would suffice to provide him silent transport to the island. 

There was no moon that night as the sail billowed out against the wind and the boat quickly scooted through the darkened water, only the stars lit the way.  It was about a 10 minute voyage to the island before Chuck finally arrived at the lone dock on the island, a dock that had a large sign in the center of it that said "TRESPASSING STRICTLY FORBIDDEN BY STATE LAW" on it.  Chuck tied a rope around the sign post to secure the boat and disembarked.  There was a small wooden boardwalk that led into the heart of the island so he began walking along it.  He had never been, nor knew anyone that had ever been on the island so it was all unexplored terrain for him and in the darkness he was cursing himself for not bringing a flashlight.  Not wanting the entire expedition to be a waste and a lost cause, he decided to go just a little further in search of something to make the felonies he committed (theft, trespassing) worthwhile.

The further he got in, the thicker the foliage was and the darker it got.  Soon he could only stay on the boardwalk by touch and sound, the noise of his shoe on hard wood became reassuring to him.  Why was he doing this?  Where was he going?  He did not know.  He kept walking into the darkness though.  Before long he arrived at the end of the path.  Just to test, he placed a single foot on the ground and his foot sank into the bog and he felt the cold dampness of the lake soaking his shoe. Though he sank in a bit, it felt quite firm and he felt confident the island would hold him.  He continued walking when suddenly the bog gave way and he fell in.  He began to sink but as he struggled against it, the bog acted like quicksand and he sank further in.  Quickly he was in to about his neck.  He felt as though he were encased in concrete and he could not move at all.  Fear crept into his mind as he realized no one knew where he was and he was so far off the trail and the trees and bushes were so dense he would not be seen from the air.  Would Chuck die?

DOES CHUCK DIE?

who cares?

The end.