The opening to my novel-in-progress

A ketch sky ship hovered in the peaceful dark purple sky between the predicament of a long, restless night and the purity of a perfect pitch dawn. Pinpricks of stars wavered, wasted, and waned as the sun’s first rays peeked over the horizon, bathing the sky of early morn, splashing the velvet deep with vermilion and rose pink. The fading night retreated into a morbid violet, then an ocean blue, then an orange acid-washed teel. Look! There. Four lines are dropped from the ketch and three figures lower themselves towards a jagged crag, split wide across the lush, green face of Parpura mountain stretched beneath them. This highest peak surrounded by valleys and hills and other, smaller mountains snow-capped and cold but Parpura mountain all green and spring and vegetation nation never frozen never dry never fading. Seemingly unreal in this unReality but oh so real indeed.

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