A stiff breeze was blowing on October 23, chilling Angela to the bone.
She was wandering through the park, tugging her soft leather jacket close to her in a futile attempt to fight the cold.
The park was deserted, as no one seemed to want to brave the cold of the late fall afternoon.
In all of the empty 6 acres of winding paths, forests of deciduous trees, and hidden nooks of streams and bridges, the only light came from the setting sun and Angela's warm amber eyes.
The wind was swirling through the scattered leaves that covered the ground in some places, around the low lonely benches, beside the few broken lamp posts, and through Angela's long brown hair.
As she walked, she frequently looked down at the wrinkled, aged brown paper in her hands, as though consulting a map to find her way.
She came to a fork in the path. After peering down at the paper intently, she looked to the left side of the path.
To the left, the path continued winding calmly through the thick forest of tall trees clad in their fall splendor.
The last bits of sunshine filtered through the leaves, leaving the path dappled in the fading light. She could see down the path quite a ways, until it went round a bend about 20 yards away.
After considering the left fork for a moment, she bit her lip and bent her head over the paper again.
Her eyes darted over the guide. Her lips moved silently, as though she were counting to herself.
Satisfied with the contents of her paper, she looked up and moved a few paces to the right to examine the right fork.
To the right, the path jutted sharply into a thicker, darker forest. The foliage was so dense that the tops of the trees met over the path, creating a closed archway.
This natural canopy shut out all light- the path disappeared into blackness. A rolling mist covered the ground in the distance. She could see that the path was straight and narrow for 10 feet-after that, she only perceived that the path was dark.
She shook her head and held up the paper. She looked from the paper, to the left side, to the right side, and back to the paper, apparently undecided.
Putting the guide down, she took a tentative step forward-and hesitated.
. . .
As the man stepped out of the forest and back onto the trail, he saw Angela standing in indecision before the fork in the road.
She was far down the path from him- beyond shouting distance- and he could barely even make her out.
But he saw where she was. A shadow passed over his eyes. Dropping his walking stick, he started to run.
. . .
As Angela walked down the path, she slowly dissolved from sight until she was completely wrapped in darkness.