whispers of the ether trickle through the cracks in the parchment one drip at a time fell upon your knuckles as you wrote and the whole time, you could feel your magick flow.
dressed in her favourite outfit of nothing,she waits patiently, for the command word to be given: Stop. Go. Come.
gripped around warmth and song, caressing sharp teethand kissing bloodied lips. no screaming, just silence set against the crashing waves on an unexplored shoreline, breaking and sliding back with contentment. reminders embodied in stainless steel and gemwork tossing and turning on the thought of filling your hands and emptying herself. a grasp that never slips,Continue reading “the shape of your hands”
save a penny earn a pence, we harken back to the way we were behind dark shades don’t play with fire, friends
she sells seashells by the seashore but I peddle pride from my front door.and when they come to try me, as they always do,they’ll find only magic and her demon breaking through. Author’s note. This is one of my all-time favourite pieces that I’ve ever written.Originally penned Jan. 3, 2019.
Storytelling has been one of the roots that make humans unique in our world, and still is even in this digital age. It is a tool that everyone has used at some point in their life, whether you are sitting around a campfire with a flashlight, or in a chatroom typing madly away. We tellContinue reading “So, You Want To Tell A Story, Eh?”
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