I write fiction for lots of reasons. One is power. I'm in charge when I write. So are you. You create the world of the story. You make the rules.
Everyone else reached the Shores of Sleep, but I remained oceans away.
Everyone called it losing Mother, but she wasn’t lost. She was gone, and no matter where I went — another town, another country, Fairyland, or Gnome Caverns — I wouldn’t find her
Legs.
Your mother was beautiful. His voice was regretful. I’m sorry she’s dead.
Who judges the judge who judges wrong?
I trust you to find the good in me, but the bad I must be sure you don't overlook.
I love you now... I love you immortally, even if I die and there is nothing left of me.
Byjadh heemyeh odh ubaech achoedzaY Foolishness may have golden offspring. I hope yours does.
The inn's guests were sometimes friendly, but more often they were rude. As bad as the ones who stared were the ones who looked away in embarrassment. Some guests didn't want me to serve their food, a...
Pink, gold, blue. I choose you!
If it had writing, I read it: cereal boxes, ads on the subway, billboards, highway signs. I
I wonder how Admat can be everywhere. Is he in my sandal? Or is he my sandal itself? Why would a god bother to be a sandal? Does he wear shoes or sandals himself, invisible ones?
Fate...may...be...thwarted.
Sun, don't rise!
Luck was with me. I saw no spiders.Luck was against me. I saw no specters.
I rode all day.I cried all night.The moon didn’t glow.The sun didn’t rise.A comet blazedBetween my eyes.West and South,Wind and rain.Every way isJust the same.Pray give me a boxTo hide inside.Pray giv...
He -it- was a specter! I stepped back, stunned.
But sleep was busy elsewhere
You were her friend? he asked. You liked her? I told him Ella was the best friend I ever had. He paused again, and I feared he would say she died. But he finally answered that he believed her to be we...