Ethel Grieves did not do dresses, yet here she was, in a dress. A ballgown, no less. It was midnight blue which paired beautifully with her elbow-length black gloves. She refused to wear pointed high heels like the other ladies, instead sticking with her regular black boots. The left one, a special gift
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I was five the first time we went camping with the rest of my scout troop. I had lots of friends back then, the kind who didn’t really care about my past or how weird I was. Whenever we went on hikes, we would pretend to be trees together. I remember looking for frogs
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I plummeted to the shadow-covered ground, quickly tucking into a roll. Then I leapt to my feet and dusted off my brick-red cloak. Gross, this better not be another prison cell.
Before I could explore any further, a huge hand grasped my hood and lifted
Transfiguration Church’s Pasta Night was the same every year: an all-you-can-eat Italian buffet, two hundred parishioners cramming the American Legion Hall, old folks doing “YMCA,” and the 50-50 raffle.
My sister Cecily and I always spent every minute in the bar.
Not for the booze.
So many promises. So little time.
I raced over the mossy ground.
We’re counting on you, Spark.
My sister, Quietus’s words rang through my mind like bells in the village square. She was right. No one else could do this. I just had to
Leaning against a tree trunk, I nibbled on a roll—all I could afford at the market square—and mulled over how to move on from this village. Cursed to keep journeying lest some disaster befall me—be it a broken bone or housefire
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“If anyone objects to this man and woman being joined in marriage, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” The pastor’s gaze landed on the groom, whose yellow ruffled tuxedo shirt peeked from beneath his emerald jacket. His hand shot in the air.
Spark Spaulding lowered his arm and caressed his fiancé’s
Joseph trailed behind his companion, keeping a distance wide enough that if they found the dragon, it would be satisfied with one roasted knight.
“Sir Joseph, do you catch that foul scent? Methinks we draw near.”
Joseph gagged. “Dusk approaches. Perhaps we should return to our stallions and make camp. I shall continue
My stomach churned when I saw the cabbie that’d driven me to last night’s ball. The paunchy man hadn’t noticed me yet as he took off his cap, revealing the horrid bald spot that his dark, shoulder-length hair surrounded. I took a deep breath.
A bird landed on a mailbox nearby and squawked rather
Yuletide never ceases to remind me of the day I ruined everything.
The wind chills me, and I shiver in spite of thick fur. I stare from my tower balcony to the snowscape below.
I hold the lute in my clawed hands. Living and enchanted, he had once been my father’s minstrel.
Last cookie of the night—store-bought, but still tasty. Washed it down with a sip of milk. After so many stops, one cookie was really all I could bear to eat without it all coming back up. But the night was over. Wearily, I climbed back into the sleigh and didn’t even need to
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