She picks up a marble, rolling and squeezing it in her palm at a searing memory of betrayal. Continue reading “Scraps From the Past”
Emil leaned back in the other chair, barber’s cape rustling over his sagging paunch.
Leon raised his shears from Emil’s thinning pate, “How can I help, Billy?” He didn’t really want to know, but he was a businessman.
“Dahlia’s gone and told me she wants another semester in Germany.” Billy buried his face in his hands. “It’s like she doesn’t want to get married!” Continue reading “Cutting Ties and Mudslides”
Red shorts, shirtless, she digs tiny toes into the sand. A mutt stretches nearby, ears pricking as the girl narrates the world under her dirty hands. Continue reading “Time Traveler (Too Many Questions, Child!)”
Lilimor slipped out the back gate, trotting to the meadow as fast as her little legs could carry her. She’d wanted to arrive at sunrise, before anyone noticed she was gone. Continue reading “Grim Harvest”
The spell had existed, long before she’d begun chronicling by gathering their hair. Candle-lit, she bent over the long braid, a weave of auburn, nut-brown, curly black, and her own pale blonde. Continue reading “To Unravel, or Repair?”