There is an old postbox by the edge of the woods...
When she closes her eyes, she can still hear the drip of the transfusion, can feel the needle piercing her skin...
It's not the height you have to worry about when you pass through the gate, it's the angles. They aren't quite right (not euclidian enough, they say, though we have tried our best) and people have been known to go mad at the sight of them and at the glimpses of what lies beyond, outside... Continue Reading →
There is a strange road that runs through the wilderness. Beside it lie the troll-lands where the trolls sleep as stone by day and walk by night, the barrow-mounds where dwell the unquiet dead, the wildwoods full of snarling wolves and wild, and the river where lurk the merfolk and the river-spirits.
It would be five hundred years that Thursday since the monks had begun their long watch of the Sleeper Who Must Not Wake, keeping up a constant chant and a constant vigil. Since in those five hundred years (give or take a day), the Sleeper had done nothing of interest and shown no sign of... Continue Reading →
She loved an elf with eyes like starlight, bright and unfading, and that was her curse, because for the elf each day was as the day before and those eyes were unchanging, while hers grew dim with the crawl of time. And when she looked into those beloved eyes, she knew that she could never... Continue Reading →
There was a tree that grew music. In spring, it sprouted symphonies. March overtures became triumphant swellings by May. On a mild April day, the melodies shamed the birds to silence. In summer, the music continued, but it seemed to most that it was dimmer, paler. Not a patch on its earlier stuff, most people... Continue Reading →
Glass roses sung like wind chimes in the morning breeze, crystalline stems trembling. The sun shone a brilliant gold and the cloud-marbled sky gleamed. A bee buzzed by, clockwork wings carrying a wire-striped body, and alighted on long needle legs. In the sky the birds circled, watching with glinting eyes and knife-sharp beaks. And in... Continue Reading →
Verity hangs in the air, gravity tugging, orange curls flaring behind her, the deep water so far below and she remembers what her mother said: "Never jump unless you know you'll land on your feet." But the rocks were placed so perfectly, one after the next, each just a little further, the waters between them a... Continue Reading →