Chrissie stopped, her jaw dropped.
But…but that wasn’t there yesterday. What was it?
A bandstand? A summerhouse? Something more solid that’s not yet finished?
And who had built it? The aliens? The aliens might design something so…unfamiliar.
So too might the Fae.
The Fae was more likely. Likely it was a festive hall, made ready for the Fae’s Midsummer Feast.
All very well, but they hadn’t had Midwinter yet.
Whatever it was, it was blocking her path and she’d no intention of sidling past it. She turned her steps to the left. She’d detour around it.
And so long as no one took note of it, maybe by tomorrow it would be gone.
crispina kemp 
I am way too curious for all that! Lovely write.
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Thank you. Some folks prefer to avoid. Others feel the need to investigate. I’m one of the latter, but Chrissie is obviously the former
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Very interesting story Crispina
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Thank you, Sadje. And a Happy New Year to you
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You’re always most welcome
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🥰🥰🥰
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Great tale, CK. Thanks!
I thought you might dig this: Schrodinger’s Crossing | Scrambled, Not Fried
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Thank you, Ron. And yes, I do like it. Excellent use of the photo and neatly linked to Midsummer Hall
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Pingback: Schrodinger’s Crossing | Scrambled, Not Fried
Something mysterious about it? Nice take. Best wishes for 2026, dear.
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Thank you. And to you, too, Indira
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Thanks, dear. Seems there are going to be lots of strange things in 2026.
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Yea, I’m trying not to get to hyped on that 😫🙄💖
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