In a night when the air was crisp, the moon full, and the leaves gathering she saw her future, not because it'd appeared, but because she'd made it happen. It was the end, not of an aging life, but a phase, and there'd been many in her life, this night, too, a beginning because she'd keep reinventing herself so long as she lived. ©October 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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