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
spell
Where Nothing is Wasted, Nothing is Lost
Pushing the goggles back on her forehead, she waved away the acrid smoke and smiled. Continue reading
Winds of Change
It arrived by nighthawk, the final ingredient to heal or conceal the corruption that blasted Middle Earth.
“If believing makes it so, we have double-hope. We shall see, anon.” She gripped the blue button, and shuffled up the hill.
Valley 