Going Home_Fairie Princess of the Mystic Lake_The Hawthorn Child_The Taker
Catalog Guide:
Going Home
There it was. That voice, that sweet, blissful song in her head, calling her too the ocean where all her happiness, calmness seemed to live. The air was fresh there. The sand was soft. It was untouched by the worries and pressures of society, free as anything, especially when the tide rolled out. The ocean; the only place on earth which she felt at home. It had been a little over three months since everything had happened. On top of her boyfriend breaking her heart, her dog, the only one in her life who seemed to understand and protect her, had died. It had finished her off. And so she came to...
Fairie Princess of the Mystic Lake
Joyce LairdFaerie Princess of the Mystic Lake1955 A blue green mist surrounds her as her feet sink slightly into the bubbling foam of the shimmering rainbow reflections of the mystic lake. She smiles at the faerie prince. He loves her. She can tell. But he can't touch her because she’s now dancing on the water, always just out of his reach. She’s the beautiful, magical faerie Princess of the Lake; perfect in every detail. He tries to come to her, but she starts fading away into the mist. She slowly sinks below the foam, until only her face is visible like a porcelain mask. She hovers liwww.onedoor.ccke a dr...
The Hawthorn Child
CONTENT WARNING; swearingWe were halfway through some Hymn in Italian when my phone went off. Its usually turned off during church so I am surprised it went off at all. Yanking it out of my pocket I moved to turn it off only to see the name on the screen and curse. “We are in church! Turn it off!” Daniella hissed in my ear. I could only apologise to her as I pushed my way out of the aisle and made for the door. I made the mistake to look back and see her thunderstruck face before I thumbed the receiver and put it to my ear and stepped out into the sunlight. “What is it?” I asked at once surpr...
The Taker
“MAGDALEN, Peter.” The name on the card glittered in the fresh sunlight of a new day. Amber opened the file and ran her finger over the mugshot and felt the connection. Another client. Another day. Another twenty-four hours. ** I saw him standing in the middle of a crowded shopping square, neatly dressed but staring around the place like he was confused and afraid. He seemed lost and dazed, but no-one approached him to help. I could see the thoughts running through his head. Why is no-one helping him? Why didn’t anyone see him? What was wrong with the world? Why did he suddenly feel empty? ...