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Description
"Ring a ring a rosie," a brown-haired man sang whilst laying in a pile of crimson leaves, watching the birds flit about the air, listening to the children play games in the park, "A pocket full of posie?" sitting up, he ruffled his hair with his hands to remove the leaves, "What an odd song to teach children," he muttered, "There's nothing sing-song about it." He brushed his grey trousers and his blue button-up shirt off as he stood up.

Sighing, he looked around the park, happy children were running around playing games, some children were sad as their mothers told them it was time to go home. Looking up at the evening sun, he thought he had better do the same if he were to make it home at all.

Heading toward the gate to the park, he put his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes. "Dan!" A voice shouted somewhere to the right, "Dan Hairu!" Opening his eyes and looking down the footpath, he saw a man running towards him with an envelope in his hand.
"What is it?" Dan called down to the man.
"This...is...for...you," the man said between breaths, holding out the letter once he reached Dan. Taking the letter, Dan opened it and looked inside.
"Daniel Hairu," The letter wrote ,"Something has come up and we need your attendance. You know where to go." Putting the letter back in it's envelope, he slipped it into his pocket.

Patting the man that brought him the letter on the head he said, "You take a seat," with a smile, "You might need to catch your breath a bit." The man nodded before sitting down against the fence. Dan looked toward the West, noting the position of the sun. "The sun is going to set soon," he said, "Time is of the essence here." He gave the man one last look, one of warning and one of farewell before sprinting back the way that the man had come.

"What could be the matter?" He thought to himself, leaping over a fence, "It must be important to contact me of all people." He looked at his watch, "Four forty-five," He thought, "I'll just make it." He subconsciously checked his watch once it neared five in the afternoon every day, lest the worst come to him.

The long grass tickled his legs as he ran through a large open field, the wind pushing and pulling the long, dry strands. The wind was cold, as Autumn breezes usually are, late in the afternoon, the air filled with the scent of wood fires as people kept themselves warm in their houses.

The shift in light was noticeable as darkness started creeping in. With a panicked look, Dan looked at his watch, "Four fifty-five,"

It read. Looking toward the end of the field, he noticed he was almost at the edge. Leaping over the other fence, he ran around the last few bends to get to the final location.

"Fifty-seven." His time was nearly up, looking up at the sky, the sun was low and the clouds were already grey, their presence very ominous. "Fifty-eight." His legs were screaming at him to stop, but his mind was screaming at his to go on. Already the air had become thick with the death that always lingered around five o'clock.

Running around one last corner, he stopped, looking at what was now in front of him, a dead end with a single tree planted at the end. He looked upon the tree and let out a sigh of relief. Running toward it he leapt onto the lower branches making his way up, higher into the tree. "Fifty-nine." The air became cold, the wind blew harder than usual and the sun lowered itself below the horizon, leaving only a few clouds highlighted, tinted orange. He had found purchase on a place where the tree had been cut and only a stump remained in it's place.

"Five O'clock." Smiling to himself, he felt as the air became bone-crushingly cold and he heard the moans of the trees as they were pulled and pushed beyond their limits. He had only seconds before the wind reached him. Pulling out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on, he felt the familiar movements at his feet as a bright light surrounded him pulling him into the tree. "Show time."

Description
"Ring a ring a rosie," a brown-haired man sang whilst laying in a pile of crimson leaves, watching the birds flit about the air, listening to the children play games in the park, "A pocket full of posie?" sitting up, he ruffled his hair with his hands to remove the leaves, "What an odd song to teach children," he muttered, "There's nothing sing-song about it." He brushed his grey trousers and his blue button-up shirt off as he stood up.

Sighing, he looked around the park, happy children were running around playing games, some children were sad as their mothers told them it was time to go home. Looking up at the evening sun, he thought he had better do the same if he were to make it home at all.

Heading toward the gate to the park, he put his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes. "Dan!" A voice shouted somewhere to the right, "Dan Hairu!" Opening his eyes and looking down the footpath, he saw a man running towards him with an envelope in his hand.
"What is it?" Dan called down to the man.
"This...is...for...you," the man said between breaths, holding out the letter once he reached Dan. Taking the letter, Dan opened it and looked inside.
"Daniel Hairu," The letter wrote ,"Something has come up and we need your attendance. You know where to go." Putting the letter back in it's envelope, he slipped it into his pocket.

Patting the man that brought him the letter on the head he said, "You take a seat," with a smile, "You might need to catch your breath a bit." The man nodded before sitting down against the fence. Dan looked toward the West, noting the position of the sun. "The sun is going to set soon," he said, "Time is of the essence here." He gave the man one last look, one of warning and one of farewell before sprinting back the way that the man had come.

"What could be the matter?" He thought to himself, leaping over a fence, "It must be important to contact me of all people." He looked at his watch, "Four forty-five," He thought, "I'll just make it." He subconsciously checked his watch once it neared five in the afternoon every day, lest the worst come to him.

The long grass tickled his legs as he ran through a large open field, the wind pushing and pulling the long, dry strands. The wind was cold, as Autumn breezes usually are, late in the afternoon, the air filled with the scent of wood fires as people kept themselves warm in their houses.

The shift in light was noticeable as darkness started creeping in. With a panicked look, Dan looked at his watch, "Four fifty-five,"

It read. Looking toward the end of the field, he noticed he was almost at the edge. Leaping over the other fence, he ran around the last few bends to get to the final location.

"Fifty-seven." His time was nearly up, looking up at the sky, the sun was low and the clouds were already grey, their presence very ominous. "Fifty-eight." His legs were screaming at him to stop, but his mind was screaming at his to go on. Already the air had become thick with the death that always lingered around five o'clock.

Running around one last corner, he stopped, looking at what was now in front of him, a dead end with a single tree planted at the end. He looked upon the tree and let out a sigh of relief. Running toward it he leapt onto the lower branches making his way up, higher into the tree. "Fifty-nine." The air became cold, the wind blew harder than usual and the sun lowered itself below the horizon, leaving only a few clouds highlighted, tinted orange. He had found purchase on a place where the tree had been cut and only a stump remained in it's place.

"Five O'clock." Smiling to himself, he felt as the air became bone-crushingly cold and he heard the moans of the trees as they were pulled and pushed beyond their limits. He had only seconds before the wind reached him. Pulling out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on, he felt the familiar movements at his feet as a bright light surrounded him pulling him into the tree. "Show time."