When Isabella starts to dream of a stranger, she is awakened inside with feelings she has never felt before. She knows he is no-one she has ever seen before, and he is not of her village. He is a stranger, and yet she feels longing to determine if he is real or he is a part of her imagination.
Far away a businessman desperate to escape the noise and stress of the city, embarks on a journey to find peace and the solitude he increasingly desires. But at his destination he will find much more.
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From a great distance it could be seen as a silhouette that should have immediately commanded attention. It was vast and high, located and stretching across the broad horizon line of a long mountain range.
The shape of the structure looked like it might be a castle, built hundreds or even thousands of years ago. Perhaps it had been a structure constructed to house reigning monarchs and their hoards of higher and lower class minions. For this reason it might have been regarded as somewhere that attracted people from far and wide, but to this place no-one ever came. No-one from outside, that is.
If anyone had ever seen and found curiosity about the structure, the closer they got, the more the grey brick would have become visible. Also evident would have been the strength of its walls and an indication of the many hundreds of years they had stood.
But it was cold – too cold for outsiders to venture toward. The mountain range was its protection. A place where no-one ever endeavored to go. Indeed, for the most part, the structure was long ago forgotten and now unheard of to the known world, located in an area that people saw no need whatsoever to ever go near.
To the people of our time and world, it was a wasteland and a wilderness. There would be nothing of value there and it could not be habitable in such extreme temperatures. It must have been built in a different time … in a different climate.
So no-one of the present world gave it a thought. The people who had built it must have been long dead, and the story of the structure must have died with them.
After all, if they had still been alive, they would have been ancient.
Author: Ann M. Pratley
Ann M Pratley has a great passion for words and writing of all kinds. She particularly enjoys writing fiction, letting the characters evolve and become people who seem real. All characters that have been developed by Ann in the writing of her books, have come to feel like good friends, and people she would love to actually meet. Because of this, she really, really hates it when she has to kill one or two of them off.