Dead leaves carpeted the packed dirt trail. Their colors, oranges, browns, reds, and yellows were still discernible despite the fading light. A cool autumn breeze caught the dry leaves, causing them to stir gently. A brief shower of colored leaves rained down, adding yet another layer of shapes and colors to the mosaic.

The sound of the leaves crunching beneath their sneakers underscored her voice when she spoke.

“Philip,” she said, “you’re not listening to me.” She paused for a moment, heaving a heavy sigh. “Not that you ever do. That’s why I’m leaving. I want someone who will listen to me.”

Kicking at the leaves as they twitched in the breeze, Philip turned his head to look at his companion. “Janine,” he said, “I do listen to you.”

“No,” Janine shouted, “you don’t! Everything is your way or no way.” She pushed her dark hair out of her face, then added; “I’ve had enough. It’s over.”

Philip was about to respond when something ahead caught his attention. He moved forward, not believing what he was seeing.

“When was the last time you heard a word I said?” Janine demanded. “When?”

“Janine?”

“What?” Her voice was thick with emotion.

“Look at this,” he told her.

“What?” This time the word was spoken in a more inquisitive tone.

Philip pointed at the large hole that gaped in the leaf-strewn path before them. It was roughly twice the diameter of a sewer cover in the street would have been. In the dim light of the setting sun, Philip could not see how deep the hole went. Thick braided ropes, with their ends set into the side of the shaft, formed a kind of ladder that led down into the darkness. The autumn breeze, picking up once more, blew a couple of dead leaves over the edge of the pit. The leaves fluttered down and out of sight. For some reason, the sight sent a chill walking up and down Philip’s spine.

Janine gasped. “We just came this way a little while ago,” she said. “This wasn’t here. We’d have seen it.”

Philip nodded in agreement with her words.