Prose – When shall we three meet again?
'When shall we three meet again, in thunder, lighting or in rain?' 'Well you usually get all three together. I'd check the weather forecast.' Lynda, mother of the witches three, shrugged her hood off and glared at the young girl to her left. 'All right Miss smarty pants, put that phone down! Oh never mind.... Continue Reading →
Prose – Tradition
Don’t believe what you read in the papers. They call me a rogue, a trouble maker, unstable, but that’s bull. I don’t play by the rules, that’s for sure, but frankly, the rules suck. They've tried to stop me. They've cut off my magic a hundred times. I just buy more on the black market.... Continue Reading →
Sheep’s Head Soup
(From as-yet unfinished short story) We dropped Ben off at his lodgings and I stayed in the car, pretending to be absorbed in the local guide book as he and Runa said their goodbyes. As she drove us back through the undulating shadow of the mountains, I could see the tension returning to her form.... Continue Reading →