There is a land that is hidden within our midst. A land which coexists with what we know as reality. It has been walked upon and was visible to the ancients through a much more prevalent third eye. An ability that has fallen into disuse with the advent of modernity. There are still a few people who believe in it, but only a handful has caught a glimpse of the wonders of this world. Some of its inhabitants do wander from time to time through reality witnessed by humans who always cower in fear. Enca, as it is called, the fabled world of the Encantados. While I was still a young boy, whenever my Nana was around. I would often ask her to tell me stories about Enca. These stories have left a mark in me in more ways than I would have thought. Nanay Lily has a fully opened third eye and she does see these Encantados from time to time. It is a gift I believe, but she says that sometimes it is more like a curse for she has seen things a normal person would dare not see.
Life is a constant stream of decisions, changes and revisions. Sifted again and again. Knowledge gained, thought to have understood, never known and still trying to ascertain from occurrences happening invariably in life. And that as we age, despite the faltering of memories, we rise higher and higher, until, close to the end, we view our life’s history perched atop a platform in the clouds our humble beginnings, the struggles, the failures, triumphs and successes, the people instrumental in all of our undertakings…
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