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From WikiStory

          Eric hit the ball. What a slam, sailing far over John's head and into the thicket beyond the makeshift baseball field. The boys yelled at John to retrieve the ball quickly. But John would have to cross into the thicket. He might get lost, not knowing this neighborhood. "Hey, wouldn't it be easier just to use the other ball?" "No!", the other boys yelled. The thicket was clear enough, and surely the ball had flown only into the neighbor's lawn on the other side.
          John entered the thicket and found what he thought was truly easy going. The only obstacles were knee-high weeds, small burrs attached at the ends. This was simple, so why not run? It was 12:30, and already the sun was hot, high above, straight into the middle of a burning blue sky. "Well, I'll be out of this soon," he thought. The weeds, however, seemed to be thickening, a bramble reaching out and scratching John deeply. He dismissed the small cut, "I'll have to expect a few scratches, after all."
          The ground had small burrows and rises that John increasingly stumbled upon. He couldn't see them because of the weeds. He felt as though he was stumbling repeatedly, and he hoped he would be out soon. The small weeds were becoming interspersed with brambles and thorns.
          John looked down at his arms and legs. Now he had five bad cuts, and the sun was becoming hotter. He tripped again and sprained his knee. Wouldn't it have been better simply to have used another ball?
          “No, this isn't so much trouble." he said to himself. "I think I can see the top of a house.”
          With renewed optimism, he rushed ahead. But then in a second, he saw his supposed housetop was merely a tree limb. A mosquito bit his arm. He slapped at the bug, smashing it. There were more mosquitoes hovering about his head, while the brambles kept cutting him. The sweat from his body was making the cuts sting.
(PARTIALLY BEGUN...NOT FINISHED)