A bowl of soup later, the witch feels satisfied but still cannot shake the incessant cough. She visits the bees but they keep their distance, telling her to go home.
The Witch's familiars help in ways unseen by others, providing support, offering helping paws, or just being cuddly. Sometimes they block progress contorting their bodies across the keys hindering the magics inside.
Locked in and ready to go, the passenger waits for the driver to make his move. In this case, I am waiting, fingers tapping against the armrest. I can feel the heat coming off the back of my neck and try to take some silent deep breaths. The driver looks over to me and I … Continue reading The Car Ride
The warrior drew her sword and raised her shield, readying for battle. Puzzled, the witch cocked her head, lowering her hand offered in help.
The switches flick on sending pulses of light and the start of whirring machines. Printing and printing it goes, the detective smirks, calling it in.
I pine for pine, of spruce, blue and fragrant. Add a little white, red, some bells, and a star atop, for the man in red watches.
Her warmth sent tingling down my arms as I held her close. Her brown eyes and smile against mine told me I was home. Nurture, protect.
Small spheres sneak and sink. They flow to the feet, finding themselves shards cutting deep.
A lie told to be justification in the crime, all in order to be nice. Drop the nice and you see the broken girl trying to sing. Instead, she has become stone.
Up there on pedestals, you perch, looking down upon mere mortals. You killed the one winged angel, but there hides another.