“We’ve been spotted—stop the game and don’t move!” a male voice blurted out, and others stopped humming a tune.
My gaze darted to where three dining chairs stood with no diners in sight. Curious
why a motley group of dining chairs, clearly not more typically adventurous Adirondacks
or willow rockers or even ladderbacks, would venture into the woods, I hid
behind a tree trunk.
Rustling noise accompanied a
voice that whispered, “She’s too close, right over there, behind that tree. We’ve
got to escape before we’re discovered.”
I peeked around the edge, and when I saw the chairs stepping, one leg at a time, away from me, I
jumped out.
They fled, but when one
tripped, its leg braces tangled in the wildflower thicket, I thought I had him.
Before I could catch up, the
other two lifted their trapped partner onto their arms and unwound the weeds
from his rungs. In a flash, the trio of renegades scampered deep into the
forest.
I searched for hours for the
runaway odd lot, hearing only chuckles from the trees, and I cursed them under
my breath, “Darned wood alliances.”
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