The
Scent of a Monster (Clean Version)
The
eastern clouds are already light when I reach the tree, the old
gnarled banyan or ‘watching oak’ as the villagers call it. The
dark ascent has left me gasping, and I pause a moment under its
tangled branches to catch the last of the night air. My palm
unthinkingly massages a buttress root in a spot worn smooth by
countless past travelers. I take one glance over my shoulder then
pass beneath the lowest limb. I enter the safe zone.
The
tree is my mil

The
Scent of a Monster
The
eastern clouds are already light when I reach the tree, the old
gnarled banyan or ‘watching oak’ as the villagers call it. The
dark ascent has left me gasping, and I pause a moment under its
tangled branches to catch the last of the night air. My palm
unthinkingly massages a buttress root in a spot worn smooth by
countless past travelers. I take one glance over my shoulder then
pass beneath the lowest limb. I enter the safe zone.
The
tree is my mile post; soon I c