Whispers of The Night

By Yaamini

In the sleepy town of Willow Creek, nestled amidst a sea of towering pines, there existed a legend as old as time itself. It was said that when the moon hung low in the sky, casting its silvery glow upon the earth, the whispers in the wind would come alive.

Sarah was a young girl with a heart full of curiosity and a mind brimming with wonder. She had heard the tales from her grandmother, who spoke of mystical beings that roamed the forests under the cover of darkness, their voices carried by the gentle caress of the night breeze.

One fateful evening, as Sarah sat by her bedroom window, gazing out at the moonlit landscape, she heard it—a soft murmur, like the rustle of leaves in the wind. Intrigued, she ventured out into the woods, following the ethereal melody that seemed to call out to her.

As she wandered deeper into the forest, the whispers grew louder, weaving a tapestry of enchantment around her. She felt as though she was being guided by unseen hands, drawn inexorably towards the heart of the woods.

Finally, she reached a clearing bathed in moonlight, where a circle of ancient stones stood tall and proud. Within their midst danced a gathering of spectral figures, their forms shimmering like starlight.

Sarah watched in awe as they wove intricate patterns in the air, their movements fluid and graceful. Their voices intertwined, creating a symphony of sound that resonated deep within her soul.

For hours she stood there, transfixed by the beauty and magic of the moment, until at last the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon. With a final flourish, the spectral dancers faded into the mist, leaving Sarah standing alone in the clearing.

As she made her way back home, she knew that she would carry the memory of that night with her always—a reminder that in the stillness of the night, when the world was bathed in moonlight, the whispers in the wind held the secrets of a thousand lifetimes.                             

By Yaamini