Write with me


The ruins of the sanctuary have long been past down through the generations.  Some speak of a place people would worship God.  An entity that created all. Others speak of a magnificent home that housed a single lonely family.  The legends were myths, so some would claim. While others would swear to have seen it with their own eyes.  I didn’t know what to think. I’d never seen anything of what was described but it sounded so fantastical that I wanted to hope for its existence.

The stories became just that, stories. At least that was until a long distance travel had me coming upon the very ruins I’d remember described as a child.  Two pillars standing solitary in a pile of stone rubble. I halted in my tracks n my heart beating hard in my chest at the excitement building in me. I hurry up to the pillars, call not to slip on the rubble.  As the pillars towered over me, a shimmer formed between the pillars.  It cleared to show greenery the likes if only knew of in stories of the past. Walking around I saw no such thing.  I returned to the front and placed my hand before this impossible view. Moving forward in a trance my head found a barrier that was wet, but not wet.  The greenery blurred before me and I panicked that it would disappear. Pushing through the barrier sensation dissipated but a cool breeze caressed my skin instead. Taking a steading breath, I lunged through. When finally I found the nerve to open my eyes and breathe, greenery filled my vision and I assume the air filling my lungs.

Finish the story.  Where did the character go?  What will happen to them?

Your Beloved Author,
Sandra Easter


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