Hurtling through space and time, running from herself, chasing beckoning illusions promising nothing but promises. Stumbling, staggering, age slowing her steps allowed her to look around, to catch up with herself. Bent and breathing hard, she straightened her spine and opened her eyes, realizing how much she'd learned. Why had the reunion with herself taken so long? Rather than wasting more time, she set to work. ©December 2016, 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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