Prose

I walked the boundaries of the light and the dark. I wasn’t trapped, however at my current pace I could push onto either side. The boundary was a constant state of grey light. The ground was intangible and I floated across crumbling trajectories. There, far in the distance in front of me was a grand door with stone steps leading up to the vestibule. Vines of light grew on the stairs and smoke swirled. There were no walls. Just ancient stairs and a door, a threshold.

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