A sly fox of a character, she would lurk on the edges, the outskirts of galas and fun parks. Luring weary fun seekers unaware.
An introverted pied piper without the music, leading with underlying themes.
And what of the rats and children? The worldings she might prey to steal? For certainly the cliff would be but a door or tunnel. Like the old closet which lead the chosen to Narnia and left the others knocking their heads into the wall crying,
“There is nothing here!”
And on the other side, a nurturing land for undiagnosed madness. Raising specialist spies to infiltrate the world of what is with what was.
Not what was before there, but what had been before within us.
Prompt from dailypost.wordpress.com: