The Woods, Friday Night

[weirderthanthou]

The singing stopped somewhere around Friday morning, and with it, the glow on the rock's surface. It was as if it had just... come apart, spreading out into the earth around it.

This was old magic. It took time. This power reached into worlds unknown and worlds beyond touching, hells and heavens and every other realm that persisted after life had been snuffed out.

A thin mist rose as the sun crept downwards into the evening. Pieces of the rock broke off from its surface, reassembled themselves. Stacking themselves into an arch, glowing faintly, as if touched by faerie.

Its glow grew brighter the closer the sun sank towards the horizon, until it blazed like a star in and of itself. Darkness fell around it, but could not touch it. And from within the arch, shapes emerged.

You had dreamed them. They would come.

[[ thus begins Field of Dreams! you can meet your formerly dead guests in this post, or anywhere else you'd like. nfb. ]]