Windigo

Posted on 04/05/2012

1


I was spending the summer vacation between the 8th and 9th grade with my grandparents in Ketchikan, Alaska doing little more than walking around the wilderness, shopping storefronts or (and mostly) taking the near 30 foot Pacifico pleasure boat out for days at a time just fishing and crabbing.  Often we’d anchor at 20′ depth to a crystal clear bottom just off the beach of some smaller isolated temperate rainforest island just for lunch.  When I say rainforest I mean some of the thickest, most dense and ancient forest you can imagine.  Pile on lots of moss and lichen that cover all the trees and forest floor in simple color offshoots of olive drab and you have a scary piece of woods.  My short story comes from a single night spent moored to a small dock on one of these remote uninhabited islands.

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