The Path That Wasn’t There

March 17, 2026

by Modesta

One autumn evening, my brother Leo and I were taken to our uncle’s house for a gathering. The adults were busy inside, so we slipped out to explore the quiet lane behind his property. The air was chill and the night seemed to swallow all the light.

We hadn’t gone far when we heard the distinct sound of other kids laughing. I was thirteen and Leo was seven. We peered into the gloom but saw no one. A little unsettled, we decided to turn back.

Suddenly, my foot caught on something solid and I stumbled to the ground. We looked and saw a set of old, rusted trolley tracks embedded in the dirt. They definitely had not been there moments before. Leo clutched my arm, his eyes wide with fear.

Before I could reassure him, two children appeared silently on the tracks. Their clothes were old-fashioned and they seemed almost transparent under the faint moonlight. I asked them who they were. They said their names were Clara and Ben.

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