Table of the Gods
The ancients called it the table of the gods, a place where magic existed. It was a sacred spot, used for ceremonies at sunrise, only the elders as witness.
A scientist by profession, he knew it for what it was – the remains of volcanic activity. If you ventured up at sunrise, magic could still be found. Watching now, only minutes until dawn, the air felt electrified with the possibilities of dreams across millennia. The gods remain with us, he thought, despite our doubting. He closed his eyes and stepped into the circle.
The photo prompt is courtesy of Madison Woods, taken by Doug McIlroy. Her story can be found here, along with links to all the other Flash Friday Fictioneers.