The woods, Saturday, sunset
For the past two days the medium-sized stone had lain, unnoticed and unremarked, on the ground in the woods. Dormant. Waiting. Now it slowly came to life, the remnants of the ancient writing flaring to life as the last rays of the setting sun touched it.
It sent out the call, reaching out to those it had brought through, gathering them back, a benign sheep dog with its strayed flock. The call was gentle and calm, but it was implacable.
It was time to go.
The mist spread out through the trees, gateway to elsewheres, filling the woods with a soft light.
[Post is up early in case of time zone issues! There’s enough light in the woods that everyone can see clearly, cause we don’t want any broken ankles. Again, OCD is totally optional; goodbyes can take place anywhere, departure can be handwaved.]
It sent out the call, reaching out to those it had brought through, gathering them back, a benign sheep dog with its strayed flock. The call was gentle and calm, but it was implacable.
It was time to go.
The mist spread out through the trees, gateway to elsewheres, filling the woods with a soft light.
[Post is up early in case of time zone issues! There’s enough light in the woods that everyone can see clearly, cause we don’t want any broken ankles. Again, OCD is totally optional; goodbyes can take place anywhere, departure can be handwaved.]