When night falls in the jungle, the darkness is absolute. You feel the trees lean in on you but you cannot see them. Above the stars twinkle, and the moon is a sliver, but their light can’t pierce the foliage. As your eyes adjust, you can just make out nightmare shapes. There is no point telling yourself that nothing can hurt you. You are in the jungle. The trees are heavy with spiders, the air swarming with mosquitoes, the floor littered with snakes. Vines and leaves twist into life are your breath fills your ears.
But you heavy respiration is not the only sound. The chirps and squawks echo, sounding close and far at once. The damp air confuses the noises as slight rustles set your skin prickling. Suddenly a star floats past you, winking on and off. Another blinks up at you from beside your foot. Around you, a galaxy awakens with you at its centre. The fireflies’ tiny, inconsistent light flitters through the trees, casting no shadow.
Remember more than you see 