Weekly Writing – April 22 2023
The first kingdom on the stair was little more than a foothill, green and sparse and drowsy with endless summer. Its residents hadn’t set out with any ambitions, and so…
Weekly Writing – April 15 2023
The first time he saw her, she was standing on a platform at Moonrill Station, waiting to board the afternoon train with three dozen other people. The only reason she…
Weekly Writing – April 8 2023
For someone like Thomas, who had always had a particular horror of death, attending the funeral of someone close to his own age came with a shameful sense of relief.…
Weekly Writing – April 1 2023
The final call for boarding. She had told herself she wouldn’t hesitate. But she’d been imagining the cheery whistle of a steam train, a conductor’s bellow over a bustling platform.…
Weekly Writing – March 25 2023
He was made of moonbeams and music notes. He was a sigh only in gardens and on lonely balconies, only outside of parties with enough melody to conjure him. Only…
Weekly Writing – March 18 2023
The dangers involved in keeping a phylactery were many, of course. As any academy class or pearl-clutching missive would tell you, at length and with some supporting anecdotes that were…
Weekly Writing – March 11 2023
“It’s all right,” she told him. “It doesn’t hurt.” He squinted more closely at her than most did when she said that sort of thing. Most, when she said it,…
Weekly Writing – March 4 2023
“Oh, that?” He cast an unconcerned glance at the painting looking back from beside the desk. “That’s just a phylactery. Pay it no mind.” Of course she paid it even…
Weekly Writing – February 25 2023
I woke up that morning in what had become the usual sticky haze of dread, five hours of sleep sawn apart by moaning, senseless dreams, to find that the vines…
Weekly Writing – February 18 2023
It was Rochelle’s idea to leave a card out for it. Just a plain, ordinary library card sitting on the checkout desk, with a pamphlet and bookmark and one of…