abigail_and_bean

I stare at rolling fields, watching the houses slip by. I look up at the mountains, noticing the warm tint on the trees that blanket them. It’s past 7 PM, one of the most beautiful times of the day in Vermont.

I love the earth,

The trees,

The plants,

The life.

I love the earth,

The way the bugs buzz

The way the birds chirp,

The way the frogs croak.

I love the earth,

Willow's Well is a well that is said to grant wishes-at least, that's what the locals say. You can only make one wish though, and it's likely it'll never come true, for the Well is said to only ever grant a worthy wish.

Words drift by me, leading up to the great night sky. I watch them, all spiraling from an open book. The book has a sort of magic coming from it, an essence. I walk toward the book and hold out my hand above it. In my palm appears a word.

My parents gasp. The sun fades from view. I take off my glasses.