How silly, having kept bunny, how overly sentimental. An old, stuffed rabbit, stitched and mended, the fabric loved until threadbare and thin. Oh bunny, never forgotten, poor flattened rabbit. Two small hands in size —just right for a child’s grasp, for a child who’d forgotten how to laugh. How many tears had that priceless rabbit held? Every one. ©February 2018, January 2021 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.
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