They called her proud. She was proud. She had raised this city from the roiling tides and protected it. She had built it up, made it prosper.
He was as a man bewitched. No, I forget myself, my dear husband. There was no witchcraft nor any mention of it.
She howled and wailed as if she suffered a great pain, and it made him weep to bring her such sadness…
A boy walks up to see what the commotion is, waves his wares at us, then looks me in the eye and addresses my husband, “I’ll trade you, this one for yours.”
The man killed my sister.
She had been here before…
Or perhaps this is what is called “nostalgia.” Nostalgia: from the Greek, nostos, “to return home”; algos, “pain.”
To begin with, wear layers.
I am the answered prayer
She wakes each night in a strange tomb
A pure heart would never trick Death
Burn this letter, and any others I may send to you, as soon as you have read it.
She will give you what you ask for…
What happened after the Emperor’s walk
A record of the strange happenings at Godwin Street Lab
A mid-winter tale of Perchta
Snow White’s journey in the woods
“It is 100 years since our children left.” Hamelin town chronicles, 1384
My cat is a werewolf
My mother’s other child