Hands clapping in the heavens, drops a rhythm on the leaves, the pavement, the rooftop, her dancing at the center of life's hurricane where horns sounded, the world tearing in two. The shrinking sky was a vista bleeding change, fists falling, her dress soaked, her face raised, her a spinning twister blurring in desperation, refreshed and renewed… oh how the rain had missed her. ©June 2014, April 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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