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Tessa’s Travels in Time

By Rachel H Grant

Tessa was born on a still spring night, in a time-tarred barn. Her first memory, at a week old, was of stars through a broken roof, pins of light in the night, a pin cushion of the gods. I want to go there, she thought feebly, away from these ugly siblings. I want to go to one of the lights, I want to be free.

Tessa’s first few weeks were spent sleeping in the hay, or exploring the field next to the barn. She cuddled with her feline family to keep warm at night, but avoided them in the day. She was different, and she knew it.

One day a strange cage appeared in the field, with tasty food inside. However it became the taste of freedom denied. Tessa was locked inside the cage, no way out. Frantic with the desire to escape these grey bars, Tessa gazed at the stars in the sky. Please help me.

The next day a lady abruptly arrived and seized the cage. Tessa hissed in alarm. She was placed in a strange vehicle which began to move. The day descended to the depths of a cat’s despair. Tessa meowed, willing the stars in the sky to reappear. Finally, the vehicle stopped. A huge building confronted her, as Tessa’s cage was seized once more. A fat middle-aged man surveyed them from the door.

“A black and white kitten! Just what the doctor ordered!” Tessa liked the man straight away, knowing that a new life awaited, several purrs ahead.

The man, Derek, adored her. She listened as he composed music, purring in accompaniment. He told her that he had never known inspiration as prolific until she entered his life. Of course, she did not understand his words, but she purred anyway. Somehow, she knew that she was helping him. And somehow, he knew that she was special. But he did not realise how special.

Tessa would paw at Derek’s feet when he did not pay attention to her for a while. He would chuckle, declaring, “This cat keeps me on my toes!” Tessa purred in reply. She began to feel that she was her owner’s protector, his health in her paws, his well-being in a flick of her whiskers. Sometimes she felt compelled to follow him around the house, just to make sure no harm came to him. It was almost as if … she was waiting for something to happen.

Then one night, she had a dream. In the morning, Tessa was not there, bed empty, food bowl untouched. Derek searched everywhere for her. But she never returned.

In Tessa’s dream, she saw a man – a different man, but somehow she knew it was Derek. He was in a room full of children, pointing at a large black board with white letters on it. But something bad was going to happen. She knew it. That was when she did it for the first time. The Jump.

One minute she was observing the man while she slept. The next second she was there, really there, in the classroom with the teacher. The schoolkids looked at her like they had never seen a cat before. But there was one boy she had her eye on. The dark energy emanated from him.

Tessa ran and bit his leg. In alarm, the boy dropped something from his hand. A knife.

“He was going to throw that at you Mr Castle!” one of the children shouted.

Mr Castle retrieved the knife, and flushed while a look of trepidation dimmed his eyes.

At the end of the school day, he carried Tessa home. She was very happy living with Mr Castle (Derek in different clothes) until … another dream.

She saw him. Derek with another face, with different clothes. He was lying in a ditch with other men, and somehow she knew that the ditch was called a trench. He was in mortal danger, she understood as her heart thudded hard at the thought. She jumped … and was there. By the man lying in the ditch, the man who was about to die. She howled hideously, her voice her only weapon. “This is no place for a cat!” he picked her up and began to walk. Behind him, artillery fire felled his colleagues. He looked back in shock, his frozen heart breaking through ice as tears formed in his eyes. His friends. He held the cat who had saved is life as if he would never let go.

But Tessa had other ideas. Her next mission was massaging her mind. She jumped from his arms … and back in time to 1597, to a witch being hunted for trial. It was Derek, dressed in women’s clothes and with a female smell, but Derek nonetheless. She was cowering in her tiny cottage as men broke down the door. Tessa knew she did not have much time to help. She didn’t know what witch trials were, but she knew this woman was in mortal danger. Tessa looked in her eyes and screamed with all the cat telepathy she could muster “HIDE!”

The woman disappeared with the grace of a cat. As the angry men entered, they looked around in alarm. “A cat! She’s turned herself in to a cat! She really is a witch!”

Tessa was violently grabbed. She hissed in anger and pain. Then used all her might to … do the special jump.

She found herself in a very strange place, with large windows looking out on stars. Ahead, a man spoke to a wide room full of people. It was Derek, in uniform and of course with a different body. But she would know him anywhere.

The man suddenly stopped speaking. He had noticed her.

“A cat!” he laughed. “We have a stowaway on the ship! I like it! A sign! When I first enrolled in space academy, I encountered a cat at the door of the school, a lucky black cat like a sign of good luck. I saw the cat again the day I graduated. Is this a sign? A validation of my intent to arrive in peace rather than taking a more hostile stance? Somehow I know it is.”

Tessa purred. She could feel it, destiny shifting beneath her paws. Whatever she came here to do, she had achieved it. But this place was strange. Time to jump again.

But she could not do it. The jump energy evaded her. She did not understand the concepts of time travel and reincarnation. But she knew she had a gift, and that the different people she had encountered had all been versions of the first Derek, her Derek. But the real Derek, the owner who had loved her so much, was many years and star systems behind her now. She could not return. The gift was gone, dimmed by the bright stars all around. This was her time now.

I am in the stars, she thought feebly, I am free. Only it no longer felt like freedom. Destiny’s paws had dealt an unkind blow. She was here forever. Time to enjoy herself, time to flirt with freedom, to taste just the one life as others knew it. It was time to be Tessa.

So she stared at the stars, and prayed for a freedom that could not come. Like a mouse in a huge field, you could chase it relentlessly, but it would forever evade capture. Some mice have luck; some cats have nine lives; some cats have dreams that never end.

A black and white cat against a blue and white blanket

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A Time to Forgive

By Rachel H Grant

The little boy fingered the photograph. The handsome man smiled eagerly at the camera, a person who time had erased.

Slowly, he crumpled it. There was a void in his heart that he did not understand. A memory of …

**

The future. Malcolm surveyed the group of assorted individuals, vying for an acceptable degree of eccentricity, and smiled with his fierce charm. He had found the writing group by accident, seeking for a new hobby and noticing their advert in the local library, on a flying 22nd century adverts screen. Creative writing, well that could be a nice little money-spinner.

He began to speak, savouring each corny word that he had written. It had been so easy to churn out the saccharin sentiment. Strangely, he had enjoyed it.

Chris woke up, saliva dried on his chin. His heart beat to the drums of disquiet. So much that he had done wrong in his life. A tear trickled down his parched skin, lacing his sagging cheekbones with the kiss of karma. This was it. He deserved every rag of remorse that now filled his head.

Tonight, the dream had been of childhood. That village idiot boy he had bullied. Regret roared in his heart. The pain of his actions painted new wrinkles on his face.

What would tomorrow’s dream be? What new horrors to relive?

His own misdemeanours weren’t the worst of it. Reliving the betrayal of others, the infidelity, the lies … the pathetic pretence of so called friends.

But while he dreamt, every day there were new wrinkles, and every minute he could feel it  … his approaching end.

So it was … time to forgive.

Malcolm paused in his rendition. A slow smirk crossed his face. He enjoyed an audience, and this one was stunned. They didn’t like him, he knew that much, but maybe, just maybe, they were starting to respect him. He relished the silence, filled with unspoken applause.

As he caught Chris’ eye – the boring librarian type he had based his central character on, after all he had to dislike his fictional Chris to bombard him with such suffering – he began to read once more. The words danced from his lips. Inside he roared with insane laughter. But on the outside, he carried on calmly reading.

And now, in the future, there he stood, speechless, in a major bookshop as he gazed upon his finished masterpiece.

A sparkling jacket cover, an inspiring illustration of an old man clutching his heart. He read the biography inside. And re-read it, bile rising in his throat.

A Time to Forgive, screamed at him as he looked at the front cover.

His story, his inspiration, left unfinished as he succumbed to more and more overtime, the insane search for new career heights, his writing a forgotten dream in the cupboard of regrets.

But there it was, his book.

The cover winked at him nastily.

By Chris Thomson…

He had even kept his own name as that of the central character. That was how narcissistic the man was. Malcolm grimaced. Chris Thomson, lowly librarian turned bestseller. He would get what was coming to him…

Malcolm continued to stare at the novel jacket as a slow smile formed on his face. Of course, karma was fair, but revenge so much sweeter. Yes, it would be his … revenge. But how?

It took him a long time to figure out the perfect crime. But when it came to him, overtaking many other mediocre ideas, it was so inspired he almost took up a pen to write a new novel … and one he would finish this time. But no, his idea was too good for that. It must really happen.

Kenneth was the answer. His time travel technician friend. In 2162, time travel was highly classified, and used for the purposes of government research only. However he was sure that in the future a whole tourist industry would arise to take advantage of this emerging technology. At this point in time, the authorities were still nervous of the potential power inherent in time travel science.

A road with lightning above and a clock face in the night sky
Image by TheDigitalArtist on Pixabay

However Kenneth had once promised him, over a Friday night bottle of wine, a peak in to the future if he so desired. He seemed excited. It transpired that Kenneth had seen the future himself, five hundred years ahead to be exact, however he would not speak about it. Some secrets, he confided, were too volatile to share.

But Malcolm did not need to go as far as five hundred years. No, just about 21 years would be perfect.

He thought of Chris’s sickening biography. “The proud father of 6 month old Amy …”

Amy would be his prize.

**

Malcolm had the easy conceit to realise that he was a handsome man. And a well-off one too, the plus side to becoming managing director of a small but prosperous marketing firm. The downside of course, was that due to his current work commitments he no longer found time to write … but he wouldn’t think about that. A dark shadow moved across his heart as he contemplated what could have been. The success that Chris now enjoyed…

But a smile vanquished the clouds on his face as he thought once more of revenge. Oh so sweet. The saccharin sweet of his novel, the candy corniness of Chris’ writing skills (or lack of).

Time travel beckoned his steel resolve with a claw-like grip.

It should be easy.

It would happen.

**

a wormhole in violet outer space with white patches
Image by Genty on Pixabay

It was over. His good looks and charm had seduced Amy instantly. And the added bonus was that he had really enjoyed his time with her.

Malcolm had taken sufficient cash with him (and thankfully no one commented on the date on his money) to secure an apartment for a month. It was four weeks of pure bliss. A better man than he would have fallen for the girl, she was so sweet. (Saccharin sweet, the clear offspring of her idiot father.) But not him. The steel resolve still held him with vice-like strength.

It was revenge he was really after, not romance.

As he took the time travel pill to return, he smirked with all his heart’s broken promises. He knew Amy would be devastated. All she would have left would be the photos of them together … the pictures he hoped Chris would eventually see. With supervised time travel now legal in two decades’ time, perhaps Chris would very quickly understand. And revenge would be his. He would have broken the heart of the man’s daughter. When he had asked Amy to marry him she had cried. Now she could cry for ever, for all he cared.

Kenneth had warned him about coming back. The risks were greater the longer you spent in the future. Generally, a maximum of 24 hours was recommended. Something to do with the way your thought forms integrated in to the time travel pill in your bloodstream. Malcolm had spent a total of 29 days in the future, but as he closed his eyes and allowed the pill to send him to sleep, he knew no fear. Telling the pill what date to send you to was a bit weird, however. He couldn’t believe it would really work, but as he mentally stated the date his eyes closed and he knew no more …

… Until he woke up to a sun-scorched day, lying in the park where he had chosen to time travel both times. Some landmarks never changed, and parks were an easy bet.

He smiled in the sunlight. He had done it.

Revenge was his.

**

It was later that the idea came to him. It was during a sleepless night when his thoughts, almost inevitably, turned to writing. It was still a dream of his, sleeping in his subconscious, occasionally rising from its slumber to scream … before the silence of sleep claimed it once more.

He had endured a few sleepless nights since his return from the future. He decided to ask Kenneth if insomnia was a side-effect of time travel.

But he had no time to think of that now, for the idea had him transfixed. He would write. That’s what he would do. He would write a novel about time travel revenge.

And Chris and Amy in the future … they would find out exactly what he had done.

His smirk was back. It lit up his face with a sludgy glow, a smile from hell.

Malcolm laughed.

**

As time ticked on, the novel progressed. He found he was writing later and later in to the night as sleep evaded him. When he did fall asleep, he was flung in to deep and vivid dreams.

Then one night he awoke from a nightmare. It had been a real incident, from many years before. When he had broken up with his first girlfriend, at school. He saw every contour of her pathetic little face in his dream, and sleeping tears rose in his eyes. He was amazed to find that his face was wet when he awoke. The pain pulsed through him, the memory of the injury he had inflicted. He shuddered.

Malcolm rose and walked to his bathroom. As he put on the light he gazed at himself in alarm. In the mirror, two wrinkles had etched themselves firmly in the otherwise youthful skin on his forehead. He shrugged. He was not getting enough sleep, that was the problem.

The next night, he dreamt of Felicity. She had been his first real love, and the excruciating agony of finding her with his best friend caused him to shriek in his sleep. He awoke shaking. As his mind calmed, the word came to him. Forgive.

That’s what he must do, he realised with cold certainty. Forgive those who had hurt him. Forgive himself, and his folly.

Another wrinkle was plastered across his face. Puzzled, he phoned Kenneth in some concern, to enquire in more depth about the side effects of time travel.

“It’s your thought forms,” explained Kenneth. “Whatever is concerning you, when you have the time travel pill in your bloodstream, can take on real substance. So if you’re worried about your weight for example, you may put on a few pounds. It’s something to do with the way the pill is synchronised to understand your thoughts. That’s how it can send you to any time period you choose.”

Malcolm swallowed hard. So what had he been thinking of? Of course…

Night and night the dreams came, and every morning there were new wrinkles. Malcolm aged about five years each day. He could hardly recognise himself anymore. He was cursed.

And still he wanted to forgive. It seemed so important now, so important as … he heard his inner clock ticking. This was it. He was living his novel. The cause of his revenge … it had become his life.

His new novel was finished. Accepted very quickly by a publisher – time travel was all the rage in the current market, now its reality was dawning – he knew, with chilling certainty, that he would not live to see it in print.

Malcolm had not gone to work in weeks. He could not let them see him like this.

He sat at home with his thoughts every day. Forgiveness obsessed him. For everyone who had ever hurt him … but most of all for him. He must forgive himself for the countless slights, the rarer rages, the selfish actions, always motivated for him, him, only him … He would forgive.

He had not dreamt of Amy yet. He knew when he did the pain would surely kill him.

So he sat at home and watched the months slip by as mere seconds, a river of time taking him nearer and nearer to …. the end of the novel.

And Chris lay down to sleep at last, with an expression of pure bliss on his face. He had forgiven everyone, there was no emotion left to explore. It was time. Forgiveness would free him, as the peace of death would erase every wrinkle from his face. And in death he would become complete…

**

The little boy showed the photo to his mother. “I found this,” he murmured. “It’s Daddy, isn’t it? Was he a bad man?”

Amy looked at him with a woman’s wisdom. “He was only a man, dear. Deluded, a fool … but I forgive him. I forgive him for everything. For I have you.”

As she hugged him, the photograph fell to the floor. A smile flowered on her face, as forgiveness lit up her heart.

**

Time to forgive, muttered Malcolm as he sank in to a deep sleep. Amy was walking towards him, and in his dream he found himself running, desperate to see her, to speak to her, to explain …

His sleeping brain slowly understood the truth. He had really loved Amy. Blinded by revenge, he had actually wanted to remain with her. Really, deep down.

In his dream she mouthed, “I forgive,” and held out her hands.

He no longer wanted to wake up. The dream was too sweet.

And as he died the dream became real. There was no turning back now…

Time to forgive.

A man and woman holding hands framed by the light of the sun
StockSnap on Pixabay

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Paradise Lost

In memory of my father, Dr David Grant

The signal was strong, a song in a strange language. Space Sergeant Neville stared at the simulation cube, transfixed. Planet Evergreen, in solar system Stonehenge. The planet named for its striking green and blue colours, the first world identified as a potential cousin to Earth, and on their list for a future trip. However, no one had ever ventured that far. At least, not yet.

The name Stonehenge indicated the strange nature of the solar system: a string of planets in a perfect circle around their sun and three moons. A space stone circle.

The signal grew steadily stronger. Neville smiled, a light of hope in his eyes. Were an alien species calling Planet Earth? Could this be first contact?

Slowly, he switched the office to virtual reality mode, pinging his commander. This conversation just had to be face to face. Even if that face was his avatar. How he loved VR, a land of unlikely beasts, fairies and unicorns. The cradle of the unconscious.

**

Dr David Grant lingered in his study, the drum of discovery in his head. He was an alien life scientist, mapping out knowledge of other species, studying them, building a knowledge base of alien biology. He loved his job.

Suddenly the study turned in to a VR landscape, as a ping sounded in his head. The avatar of Neville Hammond confronted him, no less than a sabre tooth tiger. His golden Labrador barked in greeting.

“There is a mission,” proclaimed the tiger, its eyes gleaming. “Planet Evergreen is calling.”

Two days later, David boarded Space Sapphire, the ship that would take him to the edge of their universe. It was time to meet real aliens, not the imaginary ones he mapped out in his research.

It was time for Earth to grow up. The thought of first contact sparked tears in his eyes. History had hunted him down, while the future would smile or frown; it was up to him and the crew to get this right.

**

Ten months later, Space Sapphire entered the orbit of Planet Evergreen. Agate green land and azure blue seas glimmered below. It truly was a paradise, an Earth before climate change choked the ground. Three moons, blue, green and purple, glowed with inner light. Moonlight joined sunlight to bathe the planet in a pastel-coloured disco.

a tree in front of a purple moon
Matryx, on pixabay.com

David smiled like a man who could see for the first time. Beauty bathed his brain, a vision of victory in alien ink, a new planet to discover, and the possibility of intelligent beings to partner with. He hoped peace would be their welcome.

They landed on the edge of an emerald lake, vibrant yellow and purple grass stretching to mountains on the horizon. This was a sister Earth, a better Earth, still a stranger to climate change. The rose-pink sun showered them in healing pink light. Awe hung on their faces, a necklace of the nectar of life.

An emerald green pod appeared above them, and swiftly landed. Five human-like persons emerged, two women and three men, dressed like Ancient Egyptians.

The leading woman approached them slowly, a beautiful and heavily made-up face smiling with welcome. She held a large quartz crystal in her hands. Her Egyptian etched eyes glowed with warm humanity.

“Welcome.” Surprise turned to shock in the eyes of the Earth crew. How did she know English? “This crystal is a universal translator. Whatever I say, you will hear in your own language. I am Emeralda, Supreme Leader of our planet, Paradise Lost. The name may appear odd in translation.”

David stared, enchanted. What a discovery, an Earth-like planet with a similar human species to their own! He could not wait to research them, to analyse their DNA. He hoped they would not think his request for samples rude. All in good time.

However, time would not wait. A giant spacecraft hovered above, seamlessly landing next to them. Emeralda clapped her hands in joy, her long dark hair shining in the pink sun.

The Earth space crew were bemused but not concerned. Their sincere welcome was a balm to any anxiety. They sensed no danger.

More Egyptian-like persons emerged from the spaceship. In fact, they looked just like ancient depictions of Egyptian Gods.

Emeralda and her welcome committee were ecstatic, bowing before the new arrivals. It was like they had not seen these explorers for centuries.

Then the story was told. It was a poetic portrait of Planet Earth. And it might just be true.

Emeralda has ordered a feast, and as they all reclined on blankets on the grass, she began her tantalising tale.

“Meet Isis and Osiris, your Egyptian Gods,” she began, nodding towards the leaders of the alien spaceship. “Dear Earth travellers, your human history is before you. Isis and Osiris and their crew are returned from your Ancient Egypt. The signal you found, that brought you here. It was relayed to Earth in your year, but also to Earth in the time of your famous Ancient Egypt. We were calling you, Earth of 2403, but also you too, our dear Ancient Egypt settlers. You see, dear Earth travellers, what you know as Egyptian Gods, what you believe to be a myth, were really our own kind! Thousands of years ago Isis and Osiris travelled to Earth, to instil our culture, to teach the then immature race. Here on Paradise Lost, we have monitored Earth ever since. Because we have the technology – unknown to your planet yet – to combine space and time travel, it was agreed that Isis and her team would leave Earth to travel back here, but a future here, when Earth is deemed mature enough to meet their Egyptian Gods once again, but this time as equals.”

Isis solemnly regarded the Earth crew. Her deep turquoise eyes glowed with wisdom, while her long hair rustled like a river of moving poetry. “I am your God, I am your wisdom keeper, your historic Queen, and if you agree, I will return to Earth with you. It is time to meet an evolved human race.”

An Ancient Egyptian woman holding a statue of a cat
ID 6557056, on pixabay.com

“And I have bad news!” laughed Emeralda. “Pyramids went out of fashion very quickly.”

“Then there is much work to do!”

**

David and his colleagues enjoyed a restful two weeks on Paradise Lost, before returning to Earth – followed by Isis’ ship. The crew were ecstatic. The trip had exceeded the most eccentric of expectations. They were living in the heart of history.

David smiled as he held his DNA sample. He could not wait to start his research.

Earth turned electric with Egyptian enthusiasm. Isis and Osiris achieved super celebrity status within minutes. Social media was a sandstorm of Ancient Egyptian lore. Isis gave many solemn and insightful speeches over all communication channels. Quickly, a ghost-writer was recruited to write her bizarre biography.

“Isis: A Journey through History and Heaven” became an instant bestseller. Isis and Osiris became the crème de la crème of celebrity culture. They were invited to all red-carpet events, where they stunned with Ancient Egyptian allure.

Meanwhile, David ran tests on the Egyptian God DNA, with samples from current residents of Paradise Lost in addition to Isis herself. It was human DNA, but with subtle differences. When he told Isis and Osiris, they were not surprised. “We come from a similar planet with a comparable ecosystem. Of course, we evolved on a similar genetic journey.”

David analysed the differences in the DNA, however was perplexed. Something was not right. For months he ran test after test, creating simulations to chart how the DNA had developed. An irritating voice whispered in his head, that all was not as it should be.

Isis and Osiris announced a time travelling trip to a point three hundred years in the future, part of a wider “time” tour. However, due to the technologies of time travel, they would return in just one week. Time travel science has not been divulged as yet, although Earth’s leaders and scientists alike hoped they would be gifted this in due course.

A phenomenal party sent Isis and Osiris on their way. “We’ll be back within a week!” they laughed as they boarded their ship. They had now mastered modern day English, so no longer needed a crystal translator.

David continued to analyse the DNA, an obsession worming its way through his brain, tentative thoughts at last turning in to an absurd theory.

The DNA had been artificially altered. He was sure of it.

The Egyptian Gods had larger hearts, enhanced brains and super strong spines. This has been revealed by his initial physical scan of their bodies. However, he had now concluded that none of this was by genetic chance.

What did it mean? Did some far advanced human race, from yet another planet, initially populate Paradise Lost?

David could not wait for Isis and Osiris to return. Perhaps they would have some genius insight.

However, he waited and waited, as did the entire planet. Firstly, a week, then as it elapsed, another week, and another. Weeks mutated in to months. Months metamorphised in to years. Isis and Osiris never returned.

David decided to join the next expedition to Paradise Lost. Perhaps Emeralda would know something of the secret of her DNA. As the spaceship landed ten months later, he breathed a sigh of joy. The beauty of this planet could never disappoint. He disembarked under the light of three moons, a clear night sky of a million stars above. And Earth was one of them, so very far away.

Emeralda was intrigued by David’s research, and also perturbed that Isis and Osiris had not returned.

“Since records began, we have always been a high performing civilisation here,” she confided. “Unlike your own planet, where you chart your progress from apes. In our known history, we were always an advanced species. And therein muses a mystery.”

David spent many months in Paradise Lost, walking round its lakes, enjoying the very different yet not too dissimilar waterfowl. On his return to Earth, he resumed his study of the DNA. There were no new surprises. Just the one big question. Who had altered the DNA?

Isis and Osiris never returned. In his old age, David reclined by his artificial fire and dreamt of Paradise Lost. Then he made his decision. He would go back there, to finally rest on a planet so much more beautiful than climate changed Earth.

One summer evening, in long purple grass under three moons, he drifted to sleep in a cradle of magical light. And in his dreams, he met Isis and Osiris. They imparted many secrets, but David would never wake to tell their tale.

**

It was Paradise Lost, two million years in the past. Isis and Osiris arrived with inhabitants of Earth from year 2703, a planet perishing under cruel climate change, a civilisation at war with itself over scant supplies.

“We must do something!” screamed Isis to Osiris. They filled the ship and left, to return – again and again – to save as many as possible.

Earth’s best scientists were rescued, including those working on human DNA refinement. Larger hearts, enhanced brains, longer life expectancy. Osiris grinned. “I think Isis and I are living proof that you succeed.”

So, a new civilisation was birthed, an empty planet introduced to human life. “So we never forget Earth,” said Isis, “we will call this world Paradise Lost. And as we mourn for one world in flames, we rebuild another. A new dawn, a better destiny, and a new enhanced human race.”

The pink sun set on a world of natural beauty. Hope for a new beginning intertwined with tears for a paradise lost. The sunset shone in a still sky, as pink clouds turned red, a goodbye to yesterday. And in the dying light, there sighed a hymn to tomorrow, and a prayer for a paradise that would last forever.

A vivid multi-coloured sunset over a lake
Geralt, on pixabay.com

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