Good things come in threes, except for when they’re witches. In Miriel Takkenridge’s case, the three people who approached her booth were two witches and one warlock. They stepped across the plain of the pie-judging contest, not with wands ready for battle but with forks prepared for sampling.
Miriel swept back a white lock
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
Read it now
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
Read it now
“It’s your move.” Ethel adjusted her marble seat closer to the oak table. This daily gameplay in King Horchester’s park kept his guards from being suspicious of her and me.
Ethel was a strange companion, a complete enigma. Under her cloak, she garbed herself in a tight blouse, vest, and black breeches that little
The inn had the pulsing, frenetic ambience of an auction house. Wall clocks and mantel clocks began crying like babies as they one by one struck 11:24.
Phezz groaned. Another excruciating morning. “I can’t hear myself think!”
“You could always leave,” the late Lord Pompington said. “Leave my inn!” His wispy form didn’t match
“If Ashe wanted to convince him, she would have to face him alone.”
The Narrator in her head, her “magic,” spoke. The voice narrated events around her periodically, granting her insights she had no right to possess. She hesitated outside the entrance to Canopy’s sole tree-top lodge, The Maplebark Inn. Its owner would complete
At first glance, it looked like just another broken branch—one of many in the forest canopy due to the previous day’s windstorm. However, Phezz noticed it twitching within a tangle of vines in the fork of an ash tree. The Xintixa’s eyes widened. That’s no branch. Too round, too smooth, and there’s straw
Read it now
Zaivar Witz studied the mist dealer behind the counter, wondering if the wizened man could actually help him find a new disguise. Harvesting and selling mist from the kingdom’s shrouded mountains required an unmatched madness. But Zai never cared for convention—if it helped him track down his warrants, why question it?
Read it now
The sneeze quivered on Munya’s nose, and she opened her mouth. Mami clamped a hand over both, earning her a fistful of spit and snot.
It wasn’t enough.
The men shouted and came toward them.
“Run!” Her mother sprang from the underbrush and shoved Munya in the opposite direction. She stumbled and looked back.
Lilen? I pause my scroll through warrant listings. Not many bounties out of that solar system.
I expand the posting. Very few relevant details. 500 universal is good pay though, if it’s an easy job. I tap the Contact button.
“Available for holographic chat,” I mutter. “Let’s see what this is all about.”
“Tell us a story, Gwandpa!”
The old man smiled at the two curly-haired kids, Adley and Bianca, on the floor in front of him, a pipe clasped between his fingers. “What kind of story do you want to hear?”
“Tell us another story
More Stories | Instagram [endauthortext][/authorinfo] Read it now
Recent Comments