From The Charity Of The Guardian Masts

And so it happened. 

I took the handle into my hand and turned it. As it came ajar, a wind pulled at me from the other side, sucking so hard that the door flung shut. I stood there, watching it shudder, until finally, with a deep groan, it broke in on itself and pulled me through. 

I woke up, staring into a blue sky. The clouds were sparse and reminded me of cotton balls. There was a smooth breeze, and the smell of lilacs rode on it. As I became more aware of my surroundings, I realized I was laying on my back in a field of tall grass.

To the far right of my vision, there was a line that cut diagonally across the sky. I shifted my head to understand what it was.

Sitting up, I saw a worn pair of sneakers hanging from it; it was a power line.

I stood, and looked down the line, it's wooden posts standing like soldiers in file; their endless vigilance cast upon the dry plane.

It was the closest thing to a path I could think of, and so I began to walk.

 

The End

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