Should be. But for Susan, every day she spent alone in the woods, made her feel more alone. Instead of sorting out her thoughts, they started swirling out of control until by day fourteen she was considering cutting off all her hair and trekking into the forest to live the remainder of her days as a crazy hermit, ala Gorillas in the Mist. Or more appropriately, Chipmunks in the Trees...in the bush, under the porch, in the walls, knocking on the windows demanding saltine crackers and the last of the unsalted cashews. She’d been standing on a small cliff overlooking a gorge, trying to imagine herself jumping into it to her death. But the gorge was no more than ten feet deep, maybe fifteen, so it would be her luck she’d just get a broken leg. She’d have to watch out for wolves and mountain lions...probably a herd of ravenous killer chipmunks. As if she were having a drug induced hallucination, she could see the view from the Virgin Drop.
