Here we are. We are a moment trapped in time, a dream given life. (The dream has yet to become reality.) This is a standoff, not yet the battle of wills it could be, and we are a developing memory. The world moves on around us, taking us with it.
pace the pavement, punctually tired.
act, and try to convince yourself.
the sketchbook is splayed across the table, thin gauzy papers stacked in a bundle several inches tall.
let's hit the road. (you never say it, but we go anyway)
lightning rattled the old tree on the clifftop, thunder crackling through the air in the worst weather she could have hoped to find. she set the vessel on the ground, hovering it several inches and creating a fire below. this was perfect weather; the conditions were more than ideal for this ritual. the gown she …
the red curtain falls, hem skimming the stage;