Click the Frog to Join the Party
Everyone knows where to go: the cold iron gates upon the hill. Bone-cold letters shift as you watch, saying to Abandon hope, lasciate ogne speranza. The first peoples found it. They lined the path with stones.
From dawn to dusk, a drummer sounds the way on her bodhran. If you get closer, uilleann pipes whisper like ghosts. Closer still, the air grows dense to the touch and taste. Time and space waver, untethered.
No one who has gone closer has ever returned, but I will. I will see my lover there once more. I hope, yes hope. You know, I was never one to follow directions.
This prompt from Rochelle and Liz made me think of fairy groves and getting “lost” in the woods as a child. Because it’s St. Patrick’s Day it also made me think of my 1/4 (but it counts!) Irish heritage, and oh how I love a good Irish portal fantasy. Because, no one does portal fantasy like Irish mythology does portal fantasy, in my not so humble opinion.
Just the idea of stepping into some fairy ring one day and into another realm….. I know it’s not real, but I like to think it might be. Then again, maybe not. The stories rarely end well for us mortals, do they? (Only one way to find out for sure….)