The Stones themselves seemed to be the only enduring landmarks in the vicinity. Even the elder tree that had grown over the witch’s implements and endured through the ages had not managed to survive the twenty-first century. This was the case with almost all the planet’s vegetation, due to over-exposure to the poisonous toxins humans had pumped into the atmosphere for so long and the many man-made disasters which occurred just prior to the great Gathering of Kings in the year 2037. Since then, all farming had been moved into biodome complexes outside the larger domed cities which were located above ground, underground, under the sea, in space and on Gaia’s moon. ‘Heavens,’ Tory gasped, upon taking in the desolation of the site that held such sentimental value for her. ‘I’d forgotten just how awful the destruction we’d left behind us truly was.’ ‘What do you mean?’ Maelgwn pushed himself to sound positive. ‘This is much improved … at least the sky isn’t black all the time now.’ He placed an arm over his wife’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze.
