Lake Lewisia #640

[scrubjayspeaks]

The light shone blue more often than orange these days, but it still carried the echo of flickering flames in the dark night whenever someone huddled by it and whispered, "Tell me a story." The voices that answered came from farther away than just the other side of a campfire, but the stories they shared were often as old as any that came from ancient times, still telling of journeys into the wilderness and strangers appearing on doorsteps, all the once-upon-a-times we held dear. On phones and laptops, people asked the old questions--can monsters be defeated, curses lifted, lost loves rescued--and received stories that told them yes.

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LL#640