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
transform
When the River Rises and the Wind Blows High
When the Wind Blows High
Cora stretched her long neck, beak pecking the fast moving clouds in the pale sky. Twisting, she at last freed herself from her heavy, confining carapace. It’d been necessary protection against wicked solar radiation, brought on by the forebears of those singing blessings to the thin creek twisting through desert, below. Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 