"Since that first hesitant touch, he often, somehow, found me. In a deserted stairwell or classroom, alone at the bus stop, in the suburban woods we hiked in. I'm not being entirely honest, because somehow I managed to be where he was, alone... as if waiting for him. As if this was some kind of silent game we played, where I would wait, and avert my face coyly when he found me..."
I Up the mountain Brown grasses rustle at my feet Until they bend beneath the lusciousness of snow […]
~ Block by block, up the tower, hand over hand, his hands are on the stones. Toes nosing into footholds, and his […]
They hung her from the cliff-yawning walls, in a metal cage. If she had been a prisoner of war, they would have […]
The torches flared pink, orange, green, teal, blue. Colours maddened by rogue alchemists and their powders. The sand churned under countless feet. […]
