Just like that, Kevin sneezed and knocked her sideways. The whirling contents cradled in her palms clumped and spilled sloppily forth. Lightning exploded. Snow became ice. Continue reading
spell
Spelling Lesson Number 1
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “METER”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories
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“Maybe you oughtta check the meter, instead o’ just eyeballin’ tha thing?”
The answer to that was a raised eyebrow and a sharp chin notched upward…a bit of the hairy eyeball.
“I mean, the Grandmaster Grimoire says you have ta get the right combo, tha right timing, in tha right amount, or there’s gonna be major troubles, for sure.” Continue reading
Sorceress’ Apprentice
Alison leaned on her hand, searching for the next line, so deep in thought that she didn’t note the light tap and dip of her quill pen against her temple. Continue reading
Who Wrote the Book of Love, Again?
The book lay before him, splayed open and heavy, the archaic lettering spidery and so faded in places, the necessary ingredients for the desperately desired results were difficult to read and translate in the tallow candle’s light. Up above him the shadowed shelf contained what he hoped was the correct final ingredient; if he’d read the spell book correctly, the results would be abiding love, but if he had not, the potion would deliver never-ending death. Continue reading
Olde Worlde Charm
“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’s Mistake
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
To Unravel, or Repair?
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




