She stared in the mirror, one hand holding the ends of her hair, the other running a brush as gently as possible over its knotted curls; sparks crackled green and sharp, and she didn’t want to burn down the apartment complex. Continue reading
“You’re certain this will work?” The charm, clasped in Anna’s smooth young hand, was redolent of rose hips, cinnamon, and sweet basil…and something exotic from the far southern lands. Eyes shining with hopeful, as yet unshed tears, she clasped the woven bag to her breast.
She rolls over, the soft hiss of middle-aged flesh sliding through 300-thread-count cotton announcing her change in position. She is surprised by the darkness of her bedroom and the numbers on her clock. The sunrise should have happened by now. She groans and swears and flops on her back, squeezing her eyes shut. Continue reading
And yet… Continue reading