Yesterday, the sky told me a secret.
It told me of an angel, who fell from the heavens, cast away from the light. He unfurled his white wings and flew away, his feathers littering the air before settling gently onto the ground. He soared gently through the air, unable to return home, unable to find peace. He wandered around the world, trying to find a home, trying to fit in with someone. And his hope dwindled, as did his feathers, so did his life. He rubbed his eyes wearily, settling quietly down on a small patch on land in the middle of the wide ocean. With the salty ocean spray that tickled his face and the cold air that circled around him, he lay down to sleep. He never woke up.
Today, the ground whispered to me.
It told me of the depths of hell. And the fires that consumed it. Where all sinners go and stay. But what of those who committed a crime in the deepest pits of hell? She was casted to the Earth, forced to spend all eternity in solitude. She trudged the dark Earth, her each step growing heavy. No one could hear her, no one could see her. She was alone. She had passed away quietly, curled up like a helpless newborn baby in the darkest alley. There she lay still, eyes shut, arms wrapped around herself. And a small warm tear, worked its way out of her unloved and powerless body. Slowly but surely, her body stayed still, turned into stone.
Tomorrow, the wind will lead me to them.
It will lead me to two poor souls, one that was thrown into an eternity of sleep, another trapped in a body of stone. It will tell me of a red string that connects those two together.