A decade has passed. Outside: higher seas, angrier neighbors, a world more chaotic. He rises, heavy with years, and opens wide the door.
A decade has passed. Outside: higher seas, angrier neighbors, a world more chaotic. He rises, heavy with years, and opens wide the door.
“The floor is lava!” the boys cheer, leaping on couches. A single smirk; a spell softly spoken. Child-bearing chairs ooze into the eruption.
The girl approached the Oracle. Did it know she asked the Oracle the same question every day? This time would be the last time, she swore.
Roland slipped silently below the waves. Gwen smiled and thought about the wind and which direction to sail, her new life a close reach.
After a long night, you took me to my doorstep. It was late. You looked up with your big brown eyes. I fell hard, and I never looked back.
“Do you wish on shooting stars?” she asked. “No,” he said. “Why not?” “Shooting stars are silly and rare. I wish on airplanes. More common.”
Kitties are at the window watching the falling snow. “It’s like a sky full of laser pointers!” one whispers. The other is silent with awe.