Mountain

Eons ago I was born in a cauldron of lava and steam. When I finally cooled off, tectonic plates shifted, lifting me upward thousands of feet. The ages passed and I was molded by the rain, wind, and cold. Eventually I was dressed in vegetation and scarred by rivers. My face has developed wrinkles and I have shrunk. Through the geological ages I have looked down upon a parade of flora, sea creatures, and mammals.

Modern man sends in his bulldozers, cuts down my trees, and mines my ores. Despite this, I will be here long after they have gone.

From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius

Birthright

Brandon surveyed the sea of grass standing before him. The wind, which shook the trees and rained leaves down from above, was swallowed up in the green swathe so that the air at ground level was nearly silent.

When he left home, this had been an empty plain of course dirt and stone. Summer storms eroded the land, winter froze what remained, and travel across was rough but manageable.

Now the surface was alive and Brandon was scared. But he was also determined to return to his birthright.

He took only a few steps before he drowned in the vegetation.