The monolith was to silver what the sun is to light, there was a brilliant power to it that entered the consciousness as though through a sense humans were unaware they possessed.
The monolith was always in summer, no matter the season that was in the world. For it was a diplomat, an ambassador of heaven, and thus its land and reality was of its own making.
The monolith stood there as if it were the gateway to another dimension, an entirely new vortex of spacetime.
Keep track of your favorite writers on Descriptionari
We won't spam your account. Set your permissions during sign up or at any time afterward.