Bridge of Mist and Fog by nikki broadwell

in whirlwinds of color before floating away. It was fall and they weren’t making food anymore, the chlorophyll breaking down and revealing the brilliant gold and oranges and reds that had been obscured by the green pigment. MacCuill had explained all this years ago.
    The trees here were slower to respond when she spoke to them but she had managed to converse with a few—mostly the older ones with thick trunks and wisdom in their branches. Something was going on with the butterflies and the bees. They’d been agitated when they came around. So far she hadn’t had time to find out why.
    “And what do you think, Airmid?”
    Airy turned to see the professor staring at her from behind horn rimmed glasses. “I…what was the question?”
    “The question is why aren’t you paying attention? You’ll need to know this on the test.”
    There was a titter of laughter around the room and then heat rose into her cheeks.
    “We were discussing Chaucer and his influences on later writing. I suggest you keep your focus on what’s going on inside the room rather than out.”
    Once class was over Airy gathered her books together and left the room. The other students scattered in small groups leaving her to walk down the long hallway alone. Classes had begun two weeks before and it was becoming harder and harder to concentrate. She hoped fervently that she wouldn’t flunk out. MacCuill’s lessons had never been this boring.
    Outside she headed to her new friend—an enormous oak with wide branches that spread like a canopy. She wanted to climb up but knew this would attract attention. Better to enjoy the tree from the ground. The leaves had turned scarlet and many lay under her feet, crunching as she drew close. “Why can’t I pay attention?” she whispered, looking up.
    There was a rumble that Airy felt inside her body, an indication of an answer, but before it reached her someone behind her said, “What are you doing?”
    Airy turned to see the boy with the raven-colored hair standing behind her. The question was innocent enough but a flush crept up her neck. “I was asking the tree a question.”
    “The trees speak to you?”
    Airy frowned. “Of course. Don’t they speak to you?”
    “Uh, um…I’d have to say no, but then again I haven’t really tried.”
    “I thought everyone could talk to trees. Maybe if you find the place in you that’s like them. There’s no separation between us and them.”
    “Really?”
    When Airy’s eyes met his she was unable to breathe, much less speak. She swallowed and looked away. “Think of a spider-web, that’s what everything is, including us.”
    “The web of life, I get it.”
    “I don’t think you really do. Nothing is separate, including humans. If you can’t talk to trees then something is off inside you.”
    The boy shook his head and then looked around as though checking for other people close by. “I wouldn’t mention this to others if I were you. My name’s Fehin, by the way.”
    “Airy.”
    “I know.”
    Airy stared at him quizzically. “How do you know?”
    Fehin looked away for a moment. “I eavesdropped,” he finally said with a sheepish grin.
    “Oh, in the cafeteria.”
    He nodded and then moved closer. “You live on the floor above me.”
    Airy didn’t know what to say to this. She was tongue-tied again and had a very strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I…I have to get to my history class.”
    “World history?”
    She nodded.
    “I’m in that class. We can walk together if you like. Can’t believe I haven’t noticed you before.”
    “I may have skipped it a few times,” Airy admitted, blushing.
    As they headed into the building together Airy stole a glance at his profile. He had a straight nose, high cheekbones and a chin that was neither too small nor too large. Long eyelashes rimmed his dark eyes. He seemed like someone she would like to know but he also made her nervous for some reason.
    She looked down watching the ants moving