A Saturday Story: The Big Secret

A Saturday Story: The Big Secret

Rat-a-tat-tat went longish nails on old wood. She sat at the time-abandoned Rathskeller Pub, waiting. Three tall jack-and-cokes into her Sunday afternoon, the strange man finally arrived, a wiry figure dappled in late-day shadows. The man looked almost wizardly with a long, white beard and smooth, white hair woven into

Nothing But Mist

Nothing But Mist

The witch called upon the mist to wrap its arms tightly around the beachgoers, providing the shelter she needed to slip unseen along the wharf and onto the princess’ ship. She had, at this very moment, but one thought on her mind: Soon the princess would burn. In all fairness,

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