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Summary
It was beautiful. The most perfect place Alastor could possibly imagine, and he doubted there was anything on Earth that could ever meet its splendour. He didn’t need to be told where he was, though he might venture to ask how he’d gotten here; but that question could wait, for he was too lost in admiring his surroundings.
The sky was a perfect cerulean blue, with pink tinging the horizon and strands of gold seemingly brushing over what few clouds marred its stunning expanse. Pleasantly white, puffy things, all of them sitting low enough that their undersides reflected the pink glow of the setting sun, and Alastor was only sorry he seemingly hadn’t arrived in time to see the sun itself.
It had been too long.
Series
- Part 56 of AppleRadio ONE SHOTS