Her boots crackled across dusty gravel, her lungs sore from moving so fast for so long, and though parched under the white-hot sun, Amy relished the taste of blood in her mouth for its iron resolve and its thin liquidity. Continue reading
moon
Naked Gardening
It was Mabel’s favorite roadside stand, with unbeatable seasonal produce. Lettuce, firm and delicate, and tomatoes glowing with morning dew and midday sun were so flavorful, a scanty splash of vinegar and virgin olive oil defined perfection. Continue reading
Sailing Home
She’d sailed by the stars, rounding islands of moons to arrive home. Joanna leaned into the helm, her final tack bringing her ship into bayside. Continue reading
Almost Like Clockwork
The moon had traveled across the dark canvas of the sky,
Bursting plump and round as a pale white peach,
Pitted and waning to a sodden, softening half,
Slumping to a circlet that slouched on its backside,
Shrinking further still to the tiniest, driest sliver,
Until it finally
Winked out into nothing at all.
Four and Twenty
Source: “The Song of Sixpence” (1881), Walter Crane
The Hunter’s moon rose high as Henry knelt, pulling the pie out of the oven. Dear Liza’d been sent, holey bucket in hand, to gather autumn leaves for decoration. For their 154th anniversary, he’d sworn to make the pie on his own, Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 