Writing has never a hobby for me. It was also never my intention to have ended up writing a complex story such as this. These words found in this story were just something I came across to during my many travels.
Travelling has always been my greatest of pleasure. I could never truly stay in one place for long despite the displeasure of my folks as a part of me called out to journey to the world at large. I have always seen myself as David Livingstone or Indiana Jones as I spent my days going about from the deepest of trenches, to the oldest of ruins of the uknown world Most would have thought it as a waste but I never truly bothered at that fact. Never would I have known that it was through my quests that I would find something that would change my whole life.
I hiking with some friends in the Alps near Switzerland in autumn just the past year. The fun was cut short when a storm brewed and halted our course. We were too far into the wilderness to find any shelter so we continued on for two gruelling days. Certain death would have prevailed if not for salvation was sited in a form of a small village. We were greeted in kind by the villagers and found proper lodgings in the stayed in the village for another day after the storm due to the Sabbath. Whilst the others spent the day in sleep, drink and games indoors, I instead explored the white and desolate wood.
I had always thought it humorous of the idea that many believed that the greatest of treasures are found in a box filled with anything that sparked in their eyes. These were then expect to be hidden in the mightiest of castles, the deepest of seas or in the lowliest of places, uknown and unseen. The treasure I found instead took the form of a simple chest that I found lying about in a burnt down manor that most villagers considered haunted. Inside it were letters written by many hands. I enjoyed a good read and entertained myself with the stories it told. Most had hints of romance between young lovers and others seem too bizarre that I thought of it as fiction that the children wrote.
The more I read however, the more I have come to believe that these letters proved legitimate. I began believing that these stories are real. Children who could do extraordinary things, Worlds that are frozen in time and even of monsters that could have been breathing down my neck even as I speak. Amazed and intrigued as I was, I kept it and read on til I returned to old sunny Manchester. And so it stayed with me for years to come and I have come to know that this Peculiar world existed. I have come to know these letters by heart, but did not have the will to share it. Who would believe me anyway? I instead decided to form these letters into a story in its own right. I arranged them in a way as to make it both interesting and not steer away from the possible truth it has.
And now dear reader, I leave it all to you and pray that it has the same effect to you as it had on me.
