Cast in Bronze
They spoke of her in whispers; if at all. Her name was a curse they feared, her story too full
Writer
They spoke of her in whispers; if at all. Her name was a curse they feared, her story too full
“Why are you doing that?” “Training.” “What are you training for?” “Revenge.” The old man tsked, and shook his head, and
My uncle Tobin taught me to believe in magic. I’ll never know if he understood the effect he was having,
If my body is an illusion I choose to banish it. I deny every sharply intaken breath, the effect of your
Well, it’s that time of year again. I’m working on my annual Solstice novella, which means I’ve got no time
We wrap our prayers in red string. What is it, I wonder, about red? Red flags on the branches of
Wow. I can’t believe it’s been two and a half years of Lucid Dreaming. Two and a half years of (mostly)
He lies on the floor, a stake through his heart, and my own does not flutter. I am not afraid,
People write about magic a lot; but they don’t write about how it feels. I guess that’s because they think
It’s my face. I don’t know how I can tell. Her features are obscured, just impressions of lips and nose.