The old man is panting as he reaches the summit. The small of his back twists with ache, bending him forward as if into a wind. He stumbles, legs barely able to support him.
Hell of a place to choose for a meeting, he mutters.
An eagle soars effortless on thermals, and a breeze carries the scent of lemons. A bush bursts into flame. The prophet selects a chisel from his satchel and prepares to take dictation.
I know what you’re thinking, but you are mistaken. Just because something didn’t happen doesn’t make it untrue.
I’m having major connectivty problems, so please forgive me if I’m not able to comment on your post