The Visiting Room_The Mouths_The Calendar_How to Survive an Encounter with the Fae
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The Visiting Room
*Contains sexual content; Discusses death.*Rita slowly opened her eyes to early morning sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. Reality hit her full force like a punch to the gut when she rolled over and saw the empty space in the bed beside her; the space that should be occupied by Mark, her husband of just three years. Mark was not there, and he never would be again. It was exactly one month to the day since her husband, the love of her life had died in a car accident on his way home from work. If only she had known when he left that morning that it would be their final goodbye. They ...
The Mouths
"Icarus, Jocasta, Isla, Leto, Taran and Odessa."I keep the names held tightly between my teeth as I descend into the mouth of the cave repeating them over and over. I will not succumb to the will of the Mouth. I will not be consumed. I will not be swallowed like all the others. I will find Odessa. The ground grumbles as I recite the names as though mocking my conviction. "Just wait and see," I say as I slide down the slope of its tongue, down its rocky throat, and sink towards the belly of the beast, the light of day consumed by darkness. A lump forms in my throat. I don't know what to exp...
The Calendar
Leaves blew down the sidewalk on the chilly fall day. Devin shoved his hands in his coat pockets to help them warm up a bit. He cursed himself for not wearing a thicker jacket, being that it was much colder than he anticipated. Yet even the cold wouldn’t completely ruin Devin’s mood. He needed this breath of fresh air before the big presentation he’d be giving later that day. Just thinking about it gave him anxiety, but he stopped that train of thought quickly by looking at his surroundings. Not too far down the city block was a little antique store squished between two larger buildings. It ...
How to Survive an Encounter with the Fae
The stream at the bottom of our garden was a crossing to the faerie world. At least, that’s what Gram always used to say. It was a thin, but steady, trickle of water, narrow enough to cross in one flying leap. In a few places, the stream tapered off so narrowly that it was barely a dribble. Yet it nwww.onedoor.ccever ran dry. The stream guarded a dense thicket of trees and brambles that stretched for miles along the edge of the village. The forest of the fae folk, it was called, although never out loud. The trees stood dark and intimidating at all times, even on the longest and brightest days of the summer....