Lilimor gazed across the field of wild strawberries into the Great Wood. She didn’t have enough berries to fill her basket, but the fiddle called her to the waterfall within. Its song enticed, one she almost recognized and had to sing. Continue reading
music
Saints Marching
They clattered down the long hallway, down stairs littered with rocks, crossing the division into darkness.
“There it is again,” they whispered. A low bellow moaned from the depths below. Continue reading
Beyond the Waterfall
He looked away from the waterfall and rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m not ready. I don’t understand.”
The water tumbled and flashed, as if laughing at him. Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 