The GoldenCity

Maya stood alone and saw everything, the sun touching the western horizon with a blaze of light, her three friends and the dark green canopy of leaves. No angels appeared with clarion trumpets. But she knew at that moment-knew with a subtle, quiet certainty-that she was carrying a new prophet, carrying a Traveler.

And the four little boats and the fifth boat as well continued on their journey, stopping and turning, then racing to the Sea.

John Twelve Hawks

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