The secrets of the mysterious world are being stolen. The mysterious secrets of the world are pimped out – for “likes”, for ephemeral notoriety, for profit. Consider this:

Oh, please don’t go — we’ll eat you up — we love you so! —Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are

I internet search a familiar Mojave wash. It was once familiar to the few and fanatic. We three walked and scrambled up a long granite slope to its beginning. There was a hanging garden, a few creosote and saltbush dusty olive against the gray stone. There was a ledge. We sat and looked down on a skull-shaped boulder taller than our combined heights. Far below, the acid green, pink and gold lights of a little gambling town began to flicker on.

My friends climbed up to the edge of what one of them called The Inner Sanctum and down-climbed in. I was not as skillful on the rock and stayed behind.

I was happy with the silence and the fading light shifting over the giant skull. I knew I would never be able to go into the Inner Sanctum – and yet, I was grateful to know it existed.

Now anyone with Google can satellite down into the Sanctum.

Prompt: And you. What would like to be kept secret? Can you write about it without giving it away.