The door opens slowly on its rusty hinges, as if the hand that propels it is afraid of what it might find. The village street is bathed in silence and the long shadows of sunrise.
A patch of motion slips through the crack in the door, seeming to shift and shimmer through many forms as it crosses the little lawn, coalescing into an amorphous density of dancing motes.
She lowers the camera and watches as it approaches the car, crossing the unfamiliar territory between them. A voice unheard touches her mind,
“You summoned me…”
Last week I posted a photograph as a writing prompt on the suggestion of Michelle Clements James. It isn’t something I have done before… and I was so pleased with the response! I have already featured most of them on the blog over the past week, but here they all in in case you missed…
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