Grotto

I imagine creatures live down there, inhabitants of an underworld that, instead of being ruled by the devil, is really a place where daydreams come true. It looks dark from up here, high above the world of unicorns and dancing caterpillars, as I peer into the grate, overgrown with weeds, leaves, and other detritus, a melange of autumn’s decay. I’ve done this a myriad of times across a span of years, afraid of falling in while at the same time anxious to prove that daydreams really do come true. But I never stood on the grate, because it is sacred ground, and the grotto beneath it is a mystery best left to its own devices.

Sam