Ella arrived back home just before midnight. The golden carriage’d been delayed—unexpected maintenance—so she’d had to find her own way. Skirts rain-soaked, glass slippers…well, slippery…she shucked the gown and ran home in her chemise, dropping one slipper in the mud. Continue reading
She dropped her pen, hand cramping. Why had she defined success as the number of pages she filled? Continue reading
He lay the quill down beside his Manifesto, reaching to close the cap on the near-empty inkwell. Continue reading
Vast ocean pounded a heavy drumbeat, intense wind carrying bright droplets up to the woman poised on cliff’s edge. A sheer of brine slowly covered her naked form.