The Space Between Us | Napowrimo2025 | Day 3

A Stone of Hope

The mountain stands like an old sorrow,

heavy, unmoving, its spine carved from forgotten voices.

It has been here forever—watching, waiting,

pressing down on dreams until they fold into silence.

Every stone is a name, a loss,

a moment someone gave up.

The air is thick with it,

the weight of things left unsaid.

And then—something shifts.

Small, almost nothing,

like the flicker of a candle in a storm.

One stone rolls free, tracing a crack,

a hairline fracture in the face of despair.

The mountain groans.

Something it never expected—movement.

A breath where there was none.

Hope, slipping in like light under a locked door.

More stones begin to follow,

tumbling, whispering, shouting.

The mountain shudders.

The weight shifts.

The ground remembers what it means to rise.

And then—

it falls.

Not all at once, but piece by piece,

until the sky is open,

until the weight is gone,

until only light remains.