The funny thing was, I’d never thought of myself as, well, special. People said I was special all the time; teachers, relatives, my parents. You know...
Back in the hollow underneath the fallen tree, Styx had been cradling the deep memory in his mind, careful not to let it slip back into the earth. But what was this song, and who was that figure?
The sun cast long, lingering golden rays over the school’s well-tilled vegetable patch. Adam dug away peacefully as he thought of where he most felt at peace.