“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.
Nora crouched at the edge of Fischer’s Gorge and pulled a braid of human hair from inside her jacket. Each strand in this braid had been woven together from the remainders of uncounted childhood games, battles fought and forgiven, and secrets shared among four friends, over nearly two decades. She pressed it to her face and breathed in their memories, then began the unraveling. Continue reading “Nora’s Mistake”
The spell had existed, long before she’d begun chronicling by gathering their hair. Candle-lit, she bent over the long braid, a weave of auburn, nut-brown, curly black, and her own pale blonde. Continue reading “To Unravel, or Repair?”
Pushing the goggles back on her forehead, she waved away the acrid smoke and smiled. Continue reading “Where Nothing is Wasted, Nothing is Lost”
“If believing makes it so, we have double-hope. We shall see, anon.” She gripped the blue button, and shuffled up the hill.