© Ayr/Gray
First step? Draw the chalk outline.
Berta sat back on her heels, trying to remember the next step from Baba’s grimoire. She was sure she’d gotten all the right ingredients: white chalk, pint jar of honey, ten pound sack of dirt from Janeesa’s grave. There were words she needed to say, herbs to sprinkle as she said them. Continue reading
She’d followed their path through the woods, noting how they easily spotted treasures in flora and fauna. Taking only what they needed, they left the rest for future wanderers. Kills were merciful, no parts wasted. One carried firm seeds of three sisters, the other dreamed with moonstones and what might be created from them. Continue reading
Short tales from The Valley of the Trolls
Natalie was born in Enoch Bunch’s trailer bed, a-way pas’ midnight, under a rare third moon in chill October. Or maybe she was left there. Continue reading
Source: Matt Fraser
I meant well, sending her off on an impossible quest for the Silverword Cascade, hoping she’d find distraction and joy during the painful waiting time until her childhood friends return to her; No Baba Yaga am I — my magic is limited to perception only of magic’s heady limerance, and I hadn’t felt her subtle glow. Continue reading
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
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Valley of the Trolls 