Excerpt: It was a calm day in the forest. It was cool beneath the shade of the trees, making one wish he could stay there indefinitely. The sun shone, adding pleasant warmth to the air; not hot, not in the uncomfortable sense, but the kind of warmth that made one’s mind wander and tempted him to doze off.
Beyond the shade lay swampy land which rushed down to meet even swampier water. Mangroves stood like herons knee-deep in the muddy water, and little fishes swam amongst their roots while real herons snapped up the fishes, and alligators snapped up the herons. Then they would sink into the muddy shallows and became lost to the viewer, hidden by the dirt and silt, visible only by their small eyes peeking out, watching for more prey to come wandering along.
This was the kind of day it was when Silas Hickman’s sleepy peacefulness was interru...