What The Surface Tells
When Mattius came to me that summer evening, he should never have been able to make the trek. A testament to what strength can be found in desperation.
My home sat far from the rest; isolated by trees, and not one creek but two.
A shrieking bleat drew me from my kitchens and to the gardens.
I had come out ready to face what I assumed would be a snake startling my goats, but it had been a man. On his knees, and head was thrown back, panting as though he wished to pull the clouds from the sky above.
This stranger had stumbled upon my house where it was carved into the hillside.
