Count The Trees

 

 Daniel woke on his second morning at the campsite convinced someone had planted a tree beside his tent overnight. It stood barely a metre from the entrance, its pale trunk marked with strange horizontal grooves. He mentioned it to his friends, but they laughed, insisting the tree had always been there.

By the third morning, another tree had appeared, followed by several more arranged in a perfect circle around their campsite. Daniel began counting them every evening. There had been twelve when they arrived. Now there were twenty-seven, and the circle seemed noticeably smaller. His friends finally grew concerned when they discovered that the trees blocked the path leading back to their car. They tried cutting through the forest, but every direction brought them back to the clearing.

That night, Daniel stayed awake, watching the trees through his tent's open flap. Just before dawn, he noticed something impossible: the trees weren't swaying in the wind. They were perfectly still, as though they weren't real.

The following morning, Daniel climbed the tallest tree to see beyond the canopy. Instead of an endless forest, he saw a wooden floor stretching beneath the horizon. The trees around him had no roots; their trunks ended in small, flat bases. His stomach tightened as he looked down and realised the campsite was shrinking. The tents, fire pit and sleeping bags were all becoming smaller, while the surrounding trees grew taller. He screamed for his friends, but their voices sounded distant and unnaturally high pitched.

Then a gigantic shadow passed over the clearing. Something lifted the entire campsite, and the ground tilted beneath Daniel's feet. Through the branches, he glimpsed an enormous room filled with shelves, toy houses and miniature forests. A child's face appeared above them, peering down with curious eyes. The child picked up a tiny tree, examined it, and planted it beside the others.

Daniel stumbled backward and saw his friends standing motionless beside their miniature tents. None of them moved, breathed or responded when he called their names. He rushed toward the edge of the clearing, where a massive hand descended from above and gently pressed another tree into the wooden floor. The impact shook the entire campsite. Daniel looked up just as the child's face returned, accompanied by a delighted voice.

"This one is my favourite."

A finger descended toward the clearing, and Daniel ran, screaming, as a shadow swallowed the ground beneath him. Across the room, the child reached for a fresh box of toy trees. On its side was a label bearing the name of the forest where Daniel and his friends had disappeared. The child smiled, selected another miniature tent, and placed it in the centre of the clearing. Then, with a pencil, he drew a tiny figure standing outside it