a short story
She’s always wanted to live the life her husband never wanted…
Dampness Seeps Through
by Jeremy C Kester
She felt the water soak into her as she walked. For its part, the forest kept itself wet on purpose. Trees, plants, and wildlife tended to prefer the moisture; she did not. In fact, she disliked it greatly. Despised it. Especially when it got into her shoes, where the water seemed to pool, following the natural path of gravity — the path of least resistance. Unfortunately, this water met the greatest resistance when it reached her shoes.
It decided to move no further.
For that, she cursed under her breath, growing more and more angry with each step along the sodden path.
What she was doing walking through the forest alone was up for debate. Even within her own mind. Certainty left the moment she took the first step in her journey.
Each step became a trial of her patience. Her tolerance had to endure, though. The shoes… they were nearly intolerable.
Going without shoes was an option. It would mean she’d have to carry them. Leaving them behind wasn’t possible; she hated walking barefoot in mud even more. It all called for her to debate her whole purpose. It was a wonder her condition was anything more than a con in the list of pros and cons where she made the wrong choice and was no longer able to determine if there were any pros to begin with.
Still, as much as she wanted to be, and as much as the debate raged, no real option was available. Water was to be a companion of hers until she finished the task. A nuisance that would follow her for the short while.
It was the wrong time of year to do it, honestly. Already, the Pacific Northwest was a place where rain almost seemed ubiquitous with the very air one breathed. Lush landscapes were the result, with a hue of green that almost appeared unnatural with its pristine beauty billowing over the land. She always wanted to wander through there, a dream of hiking, of living the outdoor life like all those people she saw in brochures or on those posters mounted in REI or one of those other outdoors stores. She wished to be one of those people. Happy. Enjoying life in the outdoors.
Yet she found that the outdoors were not as enjoyable as she hoped. Beautiful, yes, but not fun in the least.
Circumstances were part of it, she was sure. And lousy footwear.
She made a mental note to buy waterproof hiking shoes before she tried anything like this again. Running shoes were totally the wrong choice. She didn’t even have trail runners, which probably would’ve done better in this weather.
One could maybe say she should’ve turned back as soon as the water soaked her feet. It was too late even then.
Slowly, she trudged through the landscape, in the rain, pushing herself to get to the where she needed to go. Worse still, it was dark. Thanks to the rain. Even during the light of day, it was difficult to see anything between the canopy and the clouded skies. In a way, that was perfect. She was almost invisible then. Fewer people would risk seeing her.
In the meantime, the wet shoes and socks plagued on her patience. She really hated wet socks almost more than anything else. Just almost. The rest of her life, for example. Her husband. Her job. Her husband. Her house. Her husband. All of it ranked higher in hate than wet socks. Still. Wet socks were the problem she had in the now, so it took up a lot of space in her brain. She cursed as she moved through the underbrush. Off the paths made by others.
Maybe walking along the paths would have been easier. She made a note in her head that along with waterproof hiking shoes, she would take her next hike on the designated paths throughout the lands.
Soon, she told herself. Soon she was going to make her life in the image she had in mind. She would be like so many of those other women who drive around in luxury SUVs, go to yoga classes, take weekend hikes, enjoy tea or coffee dates with friends while they really gulp wine in sedulous excess.
Her husband held her back from that life as she watched so many others participate. He controlled what she could spend, what she could do, what activities she could take part in. Even with her having her own job, her own earnings — he kept her from living the life she wanted.
The money was “theirs”, he would argue.
Every time she would try to spend even a little, he would figure out a way to make her feel guilty for the effort. Yoga was only some woo-woo, new aged gimmick. Luxury cars were a waste of money. Hiking was for hippies. Etc, etc. There was an excuse for all of it.
Work — at least her working — was another thing he tried many times to interfere with. She thought maybe that it was that he wanted to live life as a traditional family. She would have kids, then stay home to raise them and run the house, freeing him to earn them an income as the executive he was.
Maybe that was what he was after… if she had been able to have children. He knew that was the case.
Were she to think back on when it all seemed to change, it was then. When the doctor came back and told her that she would be unable to have children. Until then, she almost accepted his reasons for keeping things the way they were, even as she understood how together, they made far more than many of the couples they knew of. Money was not a problem for them.
But she wanted children. She needed children. But even with that, he seemed able to even take that loss from her.
There was an annoying squishing sound accompanying the discomfort of each step. She wondered how it was that any area could have so much water without being flooded. Like there was only a layer of dirt on top of water to give the appearance of ground. Yet there was… water.
And in some spots, it seemed there was enough surface under her that she was spared a few steps of added moisture, but all it really meant was she had more stability for a few paces. Movement was tough still. Soon though. Soon she would claim victory for this portion of her journey, welcoming the beginning of her life.
She paused as she looked around. She listened. Other than the sound of rain, there was nothing she could hear. Nearby, she was certain the road was there. Few cars or anything were there though. Few people ventured out in this weather. At least in the parts she was in. Liars, the lot of them. Fair weather hikers, she called them in her mind. Granted, she’d prefer the weather to be sunny. Rain suited her fine, though. Except for her damn shoes. Why again hadn’t she thought of that?
Still, she breathed in relief that she was free of other people, not seeing anyone along her journey. Being seen by another would put a damper on her plans. Too many questions would be asked.
Finally, she moved again after a brief rest under the protection of a thick evergreen tree. The job was soon to be done. Another few hours and night would take over, providing her the much needed darkness. Then again, if she waited until then, she’d need a flashlight, and that would show anyone curious exactly where she was. Another person stumbling upon her would be less than ideal. After all, how was she supposed to bury her dead husband in a way to make it seem like he simply disappeared if another person saw what she was doing?
Photo and words copyright © 2026 by Jeremy C Kester – all rights reserved.
Note: this is also cross-posted to Poetically Unlicensed on Substack.
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