The stone was covered in a fine green moss. Out of place, slightly, although Sally couldn’t put her finger on why… the over-arching canopy of trees certainly had the same forest ambience on them.
A small stream trickled through the glade, passing just under the stone, which jutted out over it. The stone felt turned, as if it was slightly perpendicular to reality. The lighting on it didn’t feel quite real.
Sally walked forward, putting her hand on the stone, which sunk into the moss, pressing against her hand like a green carpet. As she put her wait on her palm, sh felt a swivel, as if she were rotating to come in line with the stone’s orientation. She looked up. Where there previously had been a forest trail and a road, now there was an open glen, stretching out in front of her, with a road, tracing from her feet up to a gaitn castle stark against the sky.
She started walking down the path…
discursive2 