041: The City in the Cliffs
The sea washes up against the cliffs, each wave bringing you closer to the crack until you are through. Then it is dark. So dark you only see the gash of light behind you.
You struggle to light a torch, but everything is too wet to catch fire. Your curiosity will have to be satisfied by the light behind you, reflect and multiplied in the rolls of water as your eyes adjust. And then you see it, carved into the walls around you.
A city.
A city of stone.
If anyone lived here, you think they must have been of stone too. You cannot imagine anyone who would live here, peering from the hanging towers and slitted windows in the carved house-fronts. You wonder how they would have moved from one place to another, because there are no roads. At the most, you see a few precarious stairs here and there.
You realise that there must be rooms and passages behind the facades. Something hidden away. Only the harbour is visible, like a walkway out onto the water. But the city itself is empty. There is no sound and there is no light. There is probably dust on the windowsills and crumbled stone in the hidden stairwells. Maybe rooms have collapsed.
And you wonder what happened to them, the stone-people that lived here, and if the rock they surrounded themselves with absorbed them. Maybe they are statues stuck to floors, frozen in their last motions.
Because there is only echoing silence now.
Written by: Katrine H.
You struggle to light a torch, but everything is too wet to catch fire. Your curiosity will have to be satisfied by the light behind you, reflect and multiplied in the rolls of water as your eyes adjust. And then you see it, carved into the walls around you.
A city.
A city of stone.
If anyone lived here, you think they must have been of stone too. You cannot imagine anyone who would live here, peering from the hanging towers and slitted windows in the carved house-fronts. You wonder how they would have moved from one place to another, because there are no roads. At the most, you see a few precarious stairs here and there.
You realise that there must be rooms and passages behind the facades. Something hidden away. Only the harbour is visible, like a walkway out onto the water. But the city itself is empty. There is no sound and there is no light. There is probably dust on the windowsills and crumbled stone in the hidden stairwells. Maybe rooms have collapsed.
And you wonder what happened to them, the stone-people that lived here, and if the rock they surrounded themselves with absorbed them. Maybe they are statues stuck to floors, frozen in their last motions.
Because there is only echoing silence now.
Written by: Katrine H.
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