She’d followed their path through the woods, noting how they easily spotted treasures in flora and fauna. Taking only what they needed, they left the rest for future wanderers. Kills were merciful, no parts wasted. One carried firm seeds of three sisters, the other dreamed with moonstones and what might be created from them. Continue reading
(To access the beginning of this 6-part series, please visit here: Solitude’s End)
Time Will Tell
Flora never met the little forest man in person, after all, although the storm had passed through over night, and the day that followed was sunny and unusually warm for the time of year. But she had seen his tiny footprints in the morning dew on the cement slab of the sheltered porch. Continue reading
(For the previous installment in this story, please click to my earlier post: What’s in a Name?)
January 27: Understanding
Decisions
Flora has been my BFF for longer than either of us can remember. And she was always a Flora, and I was always exactly who I am: a Megan. Continue reading
January 25: Journal
Gratitude
J-ust flipping through the journal stacks
O-prah, Ladies’ Home, and Country Shacks
U-p and comers follow their lead
R-ead with interest to determine their need
N-ow I, unfunded, can afford to say “no”
A-nd walk away from the circus show
L-imited funds have their happy use
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2022)
January 24: Unbelievable
What’s in a Name?
“But I swear to you, it’s all true!”
“Yeah, I think you spend too much time on your own, Megan,” Flora laughed. She frowned at Megan, at the hair that hadn’t seen a stylist for an entire summer, the crow’s feet limned in white from squinting into the sun, and the strong, tanned legs with skin just a bit too dry. At least she was still shaving her legs, but the cuts-offs were torn and baggy, and there was a stain on the oversized t-shirt.
Flora continued, “So where is this little forest man you’ve been telling me about?” Continue reading
Spring is late, delayed by a blizzard that left two feet of soggy snow, making my front stair’s existence a Schrödinger’s cat. When late April sun emerged, so did we.
A creative miscellany of mythic fantasies
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
A.I. Art and Poetry
Independent Publisher of Poetry and Prose
Chel Owens
Live music in St Paul Minnesota
pagan songs & tales
Poets Pub
Writing/Tales + Tails + Culture + Compassion
my views.. my way
Challenging the barriers of the way we define reality
Stories and thoughts about being a queer girl geek in the 21st Century.
Valley of the Trolls 