He looked at her seeing someone else, someone ideal, someone she couldn’t be. He depended on her, someone to be useful, someone who’d wait when he was with someone else. He looked for her, but she wasn’t there, she’d looked in the mirror and seen herself. ©October 2017, March 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.