They came while the town slumbered, the wandering stones. A worn desolation, a prehistoric ruin. Moss covered, half buried monoliths, all weathered by uncounted centuries, and yet, it’s not some ancient, neolithic structure. It can’t be. It wasn’t there yesterday. Wherever these stones came from, they came in a single night without waking anyone up.
I’ve been excavating the area now for three months. Slowly pulling back layer by layer. The lab work isn’t in yet, but I fear it will give me the same answer my eyes give me day after day; each morning I come out here and find more of the impossible.
Could they have been here all this time and no one known? That seems just as impossible as a perfect fraud. I can’t think of an answer. If they weren’t here, how did they get here? How do they seem so perfectly ancient to every detail? If they were, if they’ve been sitting here since before man was much more than a beast, how could we have not seen?
Tale Told 