Photo to accompany At the Gate, 100-word rural fantasy flash fiction by Ima Erthwitch
At the Gate

I realize what I’m telling you is hard to believe. But it all came together last night, while I was closing the gate, telling the trees goodbye. Everything made perfect sense. Not that I like it, you know, but it fits.

The land is sentient.

It knows.

It plans.

It executes.

That’s the scary part. The execution.  I don’t know how to explain it, this knowing. I see things differently now.  I know things I didn’t know before.  And everything that happens might look one way to the average person, but it means something entirely different to one who comprehends.

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