The Wishing Pool #writephoto

The Wishing Pool (173 words)

Where the wishes went, no one knew. Silver pennies went up and down, disappearing into the bottomless black water.

“Shh, shh, don’t tell me what it is,” said the goblin. “Just let it go.”

That was an impossible thing—letting wishes go. Emmy looked down at the coin in her hand and dropped it into the water, a little girl’s wish going down, down, and down.

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Sang-Col #writephoto

Sang-Col (595 Words)

It was on a cliff of stone and ice where they met, the goblin chieftain and the human king. So the goblins called the cliff and the field itself Sang-Col, which in their tongue means “Blood-Call.”

The goblin chieftain was Scrape, known to her people as a fair but unyielding ruler. In the days before goblin lords and the self-named goblin king, a goblin chieftain recognized no path but their own, and Scrape acknowledged no master of her actions but herself and the God whom the goblins named Ovallen. For this reason, against the advice of her kin, she had seen the human king’s youngest son Patrick and dared to love him.

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The Right Gift #writephoto

shadows

The Right Gift (119 Words)

No, not flowers. He liked flowers, but it didn’t seem right.

She sat, looking down at the quiet ground that was so unlike him. Davy had never been quiet. He had never stood still. Even in sleep, he was always tossing and stealing the blankets for himself. Peg’s mouth crooked in a smile. Darn it, she missed him.

But he wasn’t here.

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The Waking

stone

The Waking (1019 Words)

He woke through stillness and cold. That waking was precarious, and came and went, like a lazy tide. But at last, consciousness impressed itself on him. He opened his eyes to the world again.

Eddie breathed deep. The heavy motion almost made him cry out. His hand went instinctively to the bandage around his middle.

“I wouldn’t.” Wurther’s voice was low but firm. “You are still healing.”

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