The Gateway
It’s midnight, and headlights come fast and furious as they head in either direction. The drivers don’t notice the small crowd gathered under the bridge on the island between the south and northbound lanes. It’s the territory of the homeless, and drivers on their way home or heading towards the next party or their late-night shifts ignore those huddled together in the dark.
The oblivious humans in their cars ignore the writing on the concrete struts holding up the bridge even in the daylight hours. They don’t see the strange words or understand the meaning behind them. Only the initiated can understand their true meaning. The people in their cars hurrying past can’t see the shimmering portal or the creatures on the other side waiting to be invited by the initiated, by those
