The Hidden Paths 1/?

Once upon a time there was a girl. She could have been a boy, if there were order forms for that sort of thing. But she didn’t mind which she was. Just as well, really. Youngest of three, or perhaps some other number, she had nothing to be the opposite of and simply followed the paths as she found them.

The paths took her many places and each place she met new people. When she met them, they would give her masks. Some were quite solid, with names and lives of their own. Some were comfortable to wear. Some were such a stretch they barely fit. And some were as filmy and delicate as spiderwebs flecked with dew. Sometimes the girl changed to suit the masks, and other times, they changed to suit her. She kept some of the masks for always, and left others behind to find different wearers.

Every person she met wore their own masks. Some they’d been given, some they’d made themselves. Few people had no masks at all, though some occasionally went without theirs.

The masked paths the girl took led her past many wonders. Chasms filled with sky, towers filled with dreams, gentle creatures living in monster-masked societies.

Everyday like clockwork, the ends of the paths took her home.


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