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A Place Called Brimstone

I saw strange things through my journey to get here. I went through mysterious places of twisted trees and smoke-filled flowers. The sky was ice at night, and fire during the day. Men carried themselves with their backs hunched over, women carried their souls with chains to make sure they didn’t escape, and children played with broken dolls and the ghosts of their toys. A fortune teller came from the shadows and mumbled in ancient languages I couldn’t understand. Ropes hung from the trees, and they swayed with the wind instead of the weight of a lifeless bodies. On these bare branches were the nests of owls with firelit eyes.’ I could hear them coo their requiem to the land Brimstone once was. Then I heard the echoes. They were coming from different places, the trees, the grass, the clouds by the nocturnal sun- They were the moans of lost voices, distant and confused. They wanted something they couldn’t remember- they just knew they it was something missing. But before I could be compelled to listen to the echoes calling me further, A rider and his horse galloped along the trail. The presence of the him and his horse silenced the echoes, and he asked how I ended up there. I wished I had an answer, but I wasn’t sure. All I could say was that I was lost. He offered me hand, and helped me onto his horse, to take me back on my original path. I don’t think I’d ever forget that place of Chaos, and it will stay with me in this place of Normalcy.

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