This is where dreams — dreams, do you understand — come to life, come real. Not daydreams: dreams.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

[Wednesday            17th       479Thursday, September 18th (day 480)]
[The Abbey]
[In a late strange time]

The air is cool, and still, and waiting to burn.

The graveyard here is different to what it was a day ago; it's the one I've dreamt of, I think, where and a year and more ago I saw Nanshe come walking from the north; graveyard north, not town north. But the ground seethes like bothered ants, and the grass does not whisper. If I left off on looking, I think it would pull itself free and crawl away.

And I leave off looking, as that is not where we are going.

You feel no especial call to goodness, do you, Glass? No. It's not in me, not rooted; but I have come to hate the other, and what it works, and may be that is a beginning.

The Abbey's stone is weeping, and there are shapes even I cannot see in the shadows. This is not the Shuck's night; this is safety twisted to fear. And we have come.

[Open]

Comments

[chester-excolo.livejournal.com]

This is one a those times I tell myself I hate, that next time I'll make a different choice , do something else, let someone else deal with it. Yeah. That never sticks. There's always some reason I gotta do it. One of them is my wizard. She's a good kid, an' I've no doubt she'll do her best to fix the problem we're facin'. She'll need my help for that. There's also Alice n' all those other people in town. So yeah, lots a reasons for me to be headin' into the swirling chaos of of an open rift between worlds. I c'n feel it pourin' out an' it makes me dizzy for a moment, makes my fur stand on end,I curl tighter into the crook of Hermia's arm, then peer out over it.

We're here. Now where's that damn hole?