short story – changeling children

The witch came for me when I was sixteen years old. I was in class, listening to the drumbeat of rain and the wordless drone of the teacher. I had spent the first half of class drawing a pattern of stars and leaves on the palm of my hand and the ink was smudging onto [...]

short-story : red, white and silver

There were still stitches on her chest, black thorns twisting over her heart. She ran a finger over the crude threads as she looked at the thin, snowy dress waiting for her and hoped that the stitches wouldn’t show beneath it. Bring me her heart, her stepmother had said. And so they had. Whatever beat [...]