Posted in what pegman saw




Kelvin M. Knight

They came here when the trees’ leaves twinkled with iridescent light and highlighted a familiar shape, and something else. Something that made them grab each others’ hands and sway.

In this something they hummed until water flowed from a gap high above them. First a trickle, then a steady stream, then a gushing waterfall of the whitest water. Throwing their arms in the air, they sang – a song of songs, songs full of songs. Slowly this water turned fluorescent whereupon it hung in the air.

Laughing, they danced underneath this frozen water until it reached down and touched them: not one of them, all of them. Their robes remained bone-dry, whereas their skin did not. Tingling, it erupted with light. They did not know or understand why. This was what they had always done. Generation after generation. Here in this place that was the same shape as their faces.

(150 words)


The above story was written in response to the What Pegman Saw prompt, which this week took us to:

St. Helena, Ascension and Tristan da Cunha

To read the other globetrotting contributors’  stories inspired by this week’s prompt, please click the la’al blue frog below.


First and foremost I am a reader, then a storyteller. My reading tastes are eclectic. My writing can focus around the intimacy of closed settings and may tend towards characters who might be hiding something from themselves.

19 thoughts on “THE HEART OF THE MATTER

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