A contribution by Jaime M.81
She led me by the hand to a smooth, rotund cave that emptied out over the hillside, and she led me to her compatriots, nigh imperceptible in the dusk. They smiled but didn't speak, for everyone fiddled with some object cut from colored rock or wood.
She tugged my sleeve to note how the sky coiled with storm, how the birds tolled out their anticipations, how the world dispensed its deep, aged magic in subtle ways. And they readily contributed to this old concert as fellow slivers of the world.