The latest entry in the Journey series is below.
Feedback always appreciated.
“It’s like a cathedral,” Father says. I blink the world back into focus and register the cross-topped stone spire in front of me.
“Where’s winter?” I ask. The air is cool but not cold, and I cannot see any snow or ice.
“You were sick, Grey,” Father says. “You slept a lot. I found a little town – you would have loved it – and there was medicine. I just kept giving you things. I didn’t know. I prayed I wasn’t doing more harm, and you gradually got better and better. Your mind has been hazy from fever. You haven’t remembered much from when you were awake.”
“I thought you were mad,” I feel tears well in my eyes. “I thought you were crazy.”
“I know,” Father says.
We leave it at that.