Itll be fun, Sarah begged, tugging at Emilys wrists. Come on. You know itll be fun.
Emily stared at the ground, trying to not let Sarahs excitement and longing influence her decision.
Please, Emmy, Ill never ask you to do it again! cried Sarah.
But wont she be embarrassed? Or upset? I would be, Emily said, still talking to the ground.
No! Shell be glad that were taking notice of her. Think rationally, Emmy, Sarah said firmly.
Emily kept her eyes down, picking out separate threads of color in the industrialized carpeti
Henrietta, squawks the voice from the living room, the voice that Etta has come to fear. The chickens aint gonna live another day if you dont get up off your lazy ass and feed em.
Yesm, Etta replies softly.
She picks at the seams of her patchwork dress as she walks through the tiled house, bare-footed, to the chicken coop. The light dances off her pale skin in pretty patterns against the orange wallpaper.
An be quick about it!the voice booms again. Etta hears the couch squeak and she picks up her pace.
Outside, the wind is blowing softly. Etta stops and inhales
November stopped outside the little town and sniffed the air. Her eyes grew huge and she took a step back.
What is it, my lady? Perrault said dully, watching a bird flit around in the sky, his eyes hungry.
It it smells like like baking cake, November gasped.
Red laughed. Theres no witch here, she said in her grating voice. Just a pastry shop.
Clare smiled slightly. Unless you count me as a witch, she added mysteriously.
Perrault rolled his eyes.
Clares constant allusions to her own wickedness are really starting to annoy me, he muttered quie
Juxta sat on the examination chair, chewing at her nails. The doctor came in the room with his silver clipboard, checking off symptoms.
Stop chewing your nails, he reprimanded.
Juxta sighed and took her hand out of her mouth.
Well, Juxta, youve really outdone yourself this time, the doctor commented dryly. You have the flu.
Juxta coughed unhappily. How do I get rid of it? she said in a hoarse voice.
Rest and relaxation. And take these pills, he added, throwing her a bottle.
She looked at them. Jeez, Doc, she complained. Theyre the size of a small
Edited Version
Jane swung higher and higher on her swing, staring at the sky. Isabel! Look! she called to her friend. I can see a dragon!
Isabel looked up. Where? Where?
There! Its blue and white.
I can see it! Isabel called back. They both tipped their heads back and watched the majestic creature glide between the clouds.
The dragon seemed to spot them from its immense height. It swooped down onto the playground. It was even larger than the play structure that it landed next to.
The dragons mouth opened and ice blew out, freezing a stray newspaper that was dancin
A fine rain fell down from the skies, soaking Emilie to her very bones. Drawing her ratty grey coat around her thin frame, she ducked into a coffee shop.
N'importe quoi je peux vous obtenir? asked a short, squat man, stopping her at the door.
Un café avec le sucre, s'il vous plaît.
He bustled away and she slumped into one of the beaten up chairs lining the off-white walls.
He was back in a few seconds, bearing her drink.
Vous aiment toute autre chose? he asked politely.
Pas, merci.
He hesitated, and then said, Je déteste pour vous précipiter, mais nous nous ferm
Days have passed, weeks, years, before she hears anything from him.
She still remembers the first time they met. The sky, tinged purple like a healing bruise, was boiling with clouds. Her brolly had flown into the wind, flying away like a speck of red dust.
And he had been there, and he had seen. He had seen that the woman standing in front of him was his, and that he was hers.
She remembers that now as she stares at the creamy slip of paper in front of her. It's addressed to her by the army captain, not her husband. She hugs it closer and plays with her engagement ring. On and off, on and off. A shining beacon of silver light in the dark
And then she was born.
The sky was black as an inkpot, but scattered with a wall of stars. The breeze blew across the site of her birth, bringing the fresh promise of a new life.
Little hands, little feet. Pale skin like a coat of fresh snow on the ground. Blue eyes, deep as the ocean. Little mouth, little words. Puckered in a sweet, raspberry smile. Cheeks like the blossoms of a cherry tree.
Little life brought here by a mother lying dead in a pool of red, red blood. Brought here to be embraced by no one, by nothing. To a father dead because of a human war, a silly dispute. No brothers, no sisters.
Child born to the sky, to the night, t
Were here.
The carriage stopped, the horses throwing their heads back and whinnying. Jane got out, raising her petticoats delicately over the puddles on the ground.
She skipped up to the door of the house. Her little brother, dressed in his crisp black suit, stumbled up beside her.
Jane! Edgar! Please act civilized, their mother begged, her yellow lace trailing on the ground. Especially you, Jane, she added, looking severely at Jane. Jane scowled.
You must marry someone rich and known, her mother said for the millionth time. We dont want your dowry to go to waste.
The sofa was comfy. It was a dark green, made of suede material, with fuzz all over it from years of use. The carpet, however, was a grotesque white with splotches of bright colors. Riley didnt like it. She didnt like it at all.
The old TV groaned as she pointed the remote at it. The screen flickered to life and Riley flipped through the channels to find something worth watching. Her eyes scanned the screen until she found the one she wanted.
The theme song blared out, and the dance competition sprung onto the screen. Riley settled back into the sofa to watch.
Yo, Rye. Scoot your butt over.
Riley jumped as Juxta en