A river winds through chattering reeds beneath the light of two moons. When the blue moon is highest, the waters will make you remember. When the gold moon is highest, the waters will make you forget.

The lemon scones at the bakery that closed four years ago used to transport you to a field of luminescent daisies. These trips would last exactly thirty minutes - unless, that is, you ate the last of your scone while there. They never did post the recipe.

This is a little spot for places that I think up or dream up. It's mostly a writing exercise for the writer behind these words, but if you find any of the posts inspiring for your own work, I hope you enjoy your visit(s) to Elsewhere.

A small, grey puddle is a portal to a world full of near-eternal rain, where the rain always falls sideways. "Rainward" and "leeward" are more significant concepts than any cardinal directions.