The leaves crunched as he stepped into the frame. Brittle, brown, bruised. The circular flare blinded him from the side. Shining, shimmering, severe.
He wondered if he was alone. The echoes played tricks on his mind. Were they ricochets from now, or from the past? There was a presence that he couldn’t describe. Amidst the desolation it still seemed like everything was how it was. But not there.
He stepped forward, hesitatingly. And saw the flashes. Every leaf that crunched was a memory brought back. He crunched them, one by one. Till every one of them had crumbled and mingled with each other. This was the mother of all jigsaw puzzles. And this was the only way to put it back together.