Confession: I went over 100 words. Like, 100 words over 100 words. I’m going to justify it by last week’s absence. We can carry over unused words, right?
In other news, GRIT OF BERTH AND STONE is now available to read, if you’re interested in a full length work. Details here: https://anaiahpress.wordpress.com/2015/03/17/release-day-grit-of-berth-and-stone-by-lisa-dunn/
A place of magic, to be sure, where dryads and imps once danced under full moons. Molly balances on the edge of the rain-filled fountain. Nora perches like some fairy high atop the cold, crumbling oven. If any magic remains, she’ll kill me with those eyes.
“You know it’s creepy when a boy follows his classmates through the woods, don’t you?”
“Actually, I followed my dog.” I rustle the leaves with my walking stick and dare to look at her. I’ve never been more thankful for magic’s demise. “We’re hunting the legendary Norasaurus, creature of volatile temper and biting sarcasm.”
“Let’s go, Molly. This place is ruined.” Nora stands, and the moss gives way. I hear the thud before my feet can move. Scraped and bloodied, she crawls from the open hearth. I offer my hand, like any decent fellow would.
“I’m fine, thank you very much.” She bites her lip and beckons Molly.
With Molly’s arm around her waist, she limps away, holding her twisted arm close to her heart. Like a gift to a beggar she’d rather see starve, she sacrifices one backward glare. Dryads and imps may have died, but magic lives, and she’ll kill me with those eyes.