I stumbled upon a letter on the path. It was an “X”. I picked it up. It was a hefty “X”, carved out of some kind of black rock. I turned it in my hands, wondering why it was on the path, and who had left it there. While running my fingers on its surface, I felt something etched onto it. On the centre of one side were the letters “ED”.

I stopped, stunned. Ed was my name. Was this “X” meant for me? Who would do this? What did it mean? Did “X” mark the spot?

I panicked. I had been walking the whole time. I looked back and retraced my steps, but every spot along the winding path through the trees looked like the last. I couldn’t remember where I had picked up the “X”.

Did this mean I was “X’ed”?

I had to find whoever left this “X” on the path. I needed to know if this was meant for me, Ed.

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