Solveig had gathered nearly everything Old Baba had asked her to bring for their midnight meeting on the strand and underneath the clear-night crescent of the new moon; the girl had yet to find the final potion ingredient, water scooped in a wooden cup, from the Silverword Cascade, a waterfall rumored to be located in the third chamber of one of the many caves on the far side of Hidden Cove. Continue reading
You shout and tell me it’s not fair,
To give you one more chance, to dare.
That moon and all the stars are mine,
If I bow down just one more time.
Source: PNGEgg.com
“What is all this stuff?” George leaned into the workroom, one hand on the door frame, afraid to step beyond the door sill and into what looked to him like an explosion in a junk yard. Continue reading
They’d gotten a good ten inches of snow, on top of a well-seasoned base from earlier, lighter, snowfall. Heavy enough to soften the trail that ran by the still-open creek and led the woods, she figured she’d get the best skiing at sunrise, as cold as it was. Continue reading
1. New Holiday Tradition
“Mom! I can’t find him anywhere!” Janie stumped down the attic stairs, empty-handed.
“That’s ok, I got us something new.”
“Elf on a Shelf is a Christmas tradition!”
“We have to change with the times. It’s been a rough couple of years.” Mom pulled the new tradition out of its paper bag. “Isn’t he cute?”
Janie looked doubtfully at the curving horns, tiny fangs and sharp cloven hooves. She read the tag. “He sees you when you’re sleeping.”
“Go hide him, Janie!” her Mom tossed the tiny goat her way.
“Ouch!” Something sliced Janie’s hand.
The goat’s eyes glittered.
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
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Stories and thoughts about being a queer girl geek in the 21st Century.
Valley of the Trolls 