short story – coffee cups and daggers

Liska If you don’t want blood stains on your coffee cups, then don’t come to my café. I’m not saying it happens often, but if you get the mug with the red painted roses… Well, you’ve been warned. If they knew, my customers might say I make a mean cup of coffee for a faerie. [...]

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 [...]

short-story : refrain

Dust, like a constellation of stars, drifted through the sunlit room. It covered the books and photographs, the forgotten ornaments on the windowsill. A soft, silver coat fell on everything but the polished walnut piano against the wall, shining under the sun’s spotlight. The door creaked as she entered, snow-haired and slippered-feet, and sat down [...]