Reyna tucked the poppet into her desk when the Watcher walked the classroom, shoulders hunched, eyes skimming the rows for something amiss. He clicked his tongue as he loomed over her.
Fantasy
Starlight and Mulled Wine
Under a weak winter sun, I set out two gold coins on the front stair.
Instructions to the New Waystation Warden: To Be Read Upon My Death
“Beware the fairies,” the lost ones will tell you, their fingertips ashen, icicles burning their scalps.