Category : Stories

Sub Category : Fantasy

I found a penny heads-up today. The face on it was funny looking, distorted, warped- although, maybe I'm just ugly. 
Pennies have no worth here, but if you listen closely, they'll whisper secrets to you; the more valuable the coin, the more valuable the secret. I lift the penny to my ear, but at this point the only information I can gather from this penny is that I look ridiculous having a slab of metal with an ugly face carved into it next to my ear.
I scoff and flick the penny down onto the soil beneath my feet. A sprout emerges from the soil, and the worms come up to dance.
I glare at the high sun, the sweltering heat is hot wax dripping down my skin. I go to find cool shelter under a tree- a pine, not a weeping willow. Never a weeping willow.
I understand I'm shouldn't be kneeling under a pine tree pondering the aesthetics of warped pennies or dancing worms, however, I am.
At times you can look into the trees. I mean, obviously you can look at trees, unless you're blind of course. But the trees in this particular set of foliage are locks with no keys. Imagine walking into a dark room, it's cold. You take three steps in, and the door slams shut behind you. You're shivering. Suddenly, a dim light appears. You walk towards it. You never quite reach the light, but you keep walking forward, hoping one day you'll reach the light. You never do.
Two days ago, according to my watch at least, I wandered into this place. World? Dimension? Place seems most appropriate. Not exactly sure how, don't particularly care. It hasn't quite settled with me yet, but at least I know that ugly pennies whisper secrets and worms dance. And now I'm sitting under a pine tree, questioning what's to come.
I sluggishly pull myself up from the comforting grass beneath me. Above, the sky has a looming darkness, the air becomes stagnant and cold. My right hand becomes peculiarly warm.

Something is grasping my hand.