Perhaps Rose could have been more wary on her weekly walk to Granny’s apartment, but she knew the way and felt confident in her red cape and hood. How could she go wrong? It had plenty of pockets! And she had her wooden spoon to fend off any attackers. Continue reading
fractured
Citronella (Parts 1-3)
Citronella (Part 1)
Citronella leaned over the balcony and sighed, staring down at the village parti-gras. Before, she’d been content to lean on the iron parapet, separate from the mad goings-on below. Before, she’d been satisfied with her mother’s witchy warnings of the dangers of joining the sweaty rabble. Before, she’d felt empowered by her choice of who she’d let climb her long, golden braid to the top floor. She’d lived there for as long as she could remember.
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