The year came and a country on the brink went insane, day after day, wearing her down, a poison that knew her name. A collective frenzy consuming reason, relentless, tireless, a year of tragedy, a year of stress, pulling out her heart in a slow motion calamity. In her mind, there had to be hope, the crazy, there had to be a limit, she had to believe that, she told herself that, each morning, each night. ©October 2020, Christina Anne Hawthorne
Christina Anne Hawthorne
Alive and well in the Rocky Mountains. I'm a fantasy writer who also dabbles in poetry, short stories, and map making. My Ontyre tales are an alternative fantasy experience, the stories rich in mystery, adventure, and romance. Alternative fantasy? Not quite steampunk. Not quite gothic. In truth, the real magic is in those who discover what's within.