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;
she stitches the gown in layers of purple, four different shades of dark and hand-dyed to suit her exact criteria. it all but ruins her eyes; she stares so long, so hard at the stitching in fading light, rousing herself when she truly cannot see any more. embroiders patterns across in gold, luscious patterns crafted …
she dives into the water, the undisturbed pool barely rippling as she breaks the surface.
this happens again and again.
Dusk fell quickly, as it usually did in autumn
the guardian waits outside the door,pacing to and fro.it's deep winter and there is iceon every foot of the fence.the gates are frozen stiff,locked with clumped ice over thekeyhole. the chain behind the gate issolid, immobile with the denselayer of ice. the guardian has been outin the coldfor several years now.it is the way theyprefer …
the world is supposed to be noisy, she knows this. knows it in the way rain patters over the roof and the ocean.
It's become habit, buying new glassware every so often.
In the middle of town, there's a tree with a string of lights wrapped around it; Christmas lights, from the looks of it.