In all of his travels, he had never seen a mountain shaped like this. There were way too many angles, way too many straight lines.
As he stood there, pondering how he would ever managed to climb this thing, he was surprised to see a door suddenly swing open at the bottom.
A woman, looking as ancient as the mountains she walked out of, grinned at him. "I see you are admiring my home. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"
Glancing back and forth between the woman and her home mountain, all he could do was nod.
YOU ARE READING
Tiny Stories Part 2
Short StoryMy second collection of microfiction, sometimes dealing with the mundane, but mostly dealing with the magical. Unlike the first collection, the stories in this one are based on inktober prompts.
