芒種 [3] / [5]
<Consolation>
A jerk named Spider has spun a web with hideous intent between a banister at the back garden of the hospital and a flower garden where human’s feet cannot easily reach. To make a young man who is convalescing outdoors see straightforwardly where he is lying down―
One butterfly flew into the flower garden and was caught in the web. Nevertheless, it flapped and flapped its yellowy wings, the butterfly remaining entangled. The spider approached like a shooting arrow, drawing endless, endless thread, coiling up the entire body of the butterfly. The man exhaled a long sigh.
The word which might be able to console the man―who lost his time, contracting disease after enduring countless sufferings far eclipsing his years-there was no other consoling word for one tangled up in the spider’s web.
He prayed for the day when the web which trapped him would be dissolved, and that that day would come soon. Then he would know true comfort?
Alexander’s phone vibrated, scattering his complex ideas.
"Hello, Mr. Gresham,"
it was the caller.
"I've called to give you one last piece of evidence. It should seal the deal against our mutual acquaintance."
"What do you―"
Alexander started, but was cut off.
"The old man in the video. You know the one I mean, yes?"
"Yeah, what's―"
Cutting him off again, the caller continued.
"I'm sending you an address. When you arrive, there is a trail directly behind the property. Don't worry, it's abandoned. Follow the trail for approximately 1.3 miles, and you'll see a white stone that looks out of place in a forest. X marks the spot."