Ruined and ruminating, her chilled heart an ancient past shared with those searching, her shadowed sunset believing all was lost, a post-apocalyptic night waiting for a new beginning. All her expectations were dust, all she'd lost were forgotten things in decay, things filling her catacomb soul where they atrophied, burying them forever was an awakening as she thrived in a sunrise free from burdens. ©August 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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