Smoking shadows wafting out of the past lingered on the other side of the present conjuring, dancing in disjointed syncopation. Glimpsed askance, a presence in another room, a deadly trigger with a key. Whispered warnings perceiving other outcomes recognized the danger in mirrored eyes, realizing other courses were possible. Unwanted recollection was the presence in another room. She closed the door. ©May 2017, February 2022 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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