As Rixel flicked through the mail, a small handwritten envelope caught his attention. His mane flared, and he sat back on his haunches, wings opening and closing in consternation.
The dragon was old and weary. My brothers bought our father's approval with her gems. “Let me try,” I begged. Seven times I asked; the eighth time, he agreed. Leaving home, though, was the dragon’s idea. A girl can live years on a ruby or two, after all. Featured image by Peter Lomas from Pixabay
You're little, they said. You can sneak in. I don't want to, I said. I was scared. The Rats didn't care, though. If you want a place to stay, you'll have to scout. I didn't want to do that, either. But I said I'd take care of Josie, and I was running out of options. … Continue reading Mousetrap
Something moved in the shadows. I held my breath. An hour past midnight on new moon night, read the unsigned note. Bring no lamp. It was a risk: death for you, censure for me—and a lifetime of mourning. “Come.” Your voice floated from the darkness. I shouldered my pack, and we ran. Featured image by … Continue reading In my father’s garden
Most likely, you think we commercialized love...