Blast Off - Oct. 18, 2024

Cumsters

Cumsters Pic(s)

The old forest held a profound silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of my boots on the frost-kissed leaves. Sunlight, thin and pale, filtered through the dense canopy of ancient oaks, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to twist and writhe. I had been walking for hours, drawn by a faint, melodic hum that grew steadily more distinct with each step. The air itself felt charged, thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying wood, a perfume of forgotten times. Suddenly, the trees gave way to a small, circular clearing bathed in an unexpected pool of warm, golden light. At its center stood a solitary, weathered stone, covered in intricate, moss-filled carvings that pulsed with a soft, internal luminescence. The hum was emanating from this monolith, a resonant vibration that I could feel in my very bones, both unsettling and irresistibly compelling. As I approached, the carvings seemed to shift, the patterns rearranging themselves into forms that were almost recognizable, like a language on the tip of my tongue. A profound sense of peace washed over me, a feeling of connection to something vast and eternally patient. I reached out, my fingers hovering just above the cool, vibrating surface of the stone, and in that moment, the entire forest seemed to hold its breath. I knew, with a certainty I could not explain, that this was a place of beginnings and endings, a secret heart of the world.