Fantasy Photo

Together #writephoto


Together (281 Words)

The turn in the road, the angle of the trees on the hill—it was all familiar. After all that had happened, Beck had expected home to feel like a dream. Instead it was a different reality. Yet her happiness at knowing her family’s cottage was just around the hill was strongest with her desire to share it.

“It might be late for lunch,” she said. “We’ll have something for you. Come on.”

The elf man had stopped walking, standing in the shadow of the hill.

“This is your home, isn’t it?” he said.

Beck’s mouth pursed. She nodded.

“Then this is where we part ways.” He held out his hand to her. “It has been a pleasure, mo chroi, my dear heart.”

Fantasy Spiritual

The Patchwork Flag


The Patchwork Flag (169 Words)

“It’s raining.”

“Aye. It is.”

She could feel his eyes on her. She didn’t look up from her work, her precise needle stitching together corduroy and silk.

Her husband sat beside her. He lifted the patchwork at one fold, feeling the texture.

“Is this Maggie?”

The woman raised her head, her face inscrutable. “Yes. It’s Maggie.”

Fantasy Romance

One Ring


Here is a scene about one ring, two tempers, and a young woman who is appallingly candid.


“I do not value gifts from dead men.”

She had said it. She meant it, too, with all her dark and hardened heart. His crippled body was in a wheelchair, wrapped from the waist down in a blanket. He would never survive an attack from the ogres. It tired her to look at him, knowing the burden he was to others, the healer whose time could be better spent elsewhere wasted in making a dead man comfortable.

At her statement, Aryn squinted at her. “Why not take gifts from a dead man? Are you afraid you might care for him if you do?”

Merris snorted. She held the iron ring for him to take. “It’s also ugly,” she said, “if that helps.”

Art Fantasy

The Mouth of Wagoc


It has been a long time since Wallie last posted anything. For this he apologizes. It has not been an easy November (or December) for the poor little imp.  This is our response to the Daily Prompt–relating a time when ‘everything seemed to be going wrong and then, suddenly, you knew it would be right.’

This didn’t necessarily happen to ourselves. Sometimes, you have to meet the real world with fantasy. So: ‘The Mouth of Wagoc.’

Art Fantasy

How Iron Came to Rust (A Fairy Tale)

Wallie the Imp has a soft spot for fairy tales. I suppose that has something to do with his being, to all intents and purposes, a horrible little goblin himself. He says this story is fairy-tale-telling at its best. And while his opinion is usually off the wall, this time I quite agree.

Art Fantasy

Wallie Melancholy


It’s one of those days. A phone call (or none). A letter. A cloud over the tree. Wallie the Imp and I are not our usual cheerful selves. And as usual, when no spoken word can work out the knots in a melancholy mood, the written word sometimes comes through just right. It’s time for contemplation, an apocalypse, a woman not of this world and a man who very much is. It’s time for a little low music.

Art Fantasy

Wallie the Imp on Wringing Words


Wallie the Imp likes to read. In Impland, Imps admire books for their practical usefulness: you can read them, write in them, and chew on them. Wallie tells me that nothing tastes better than a nicely yellowed paperback.

Art Fantasy

Wallie on Best Friends in Low Places


Wallie the Imp and I were walking through campus to meet my Friend. Wallie has a marvelous skill for not being noticed by strangers, so I was able to keep him with me. I daresay everyone thought I was a little off center for walking about speaking rudimentary Impish, but I had out my mobile, my cell phone, as a prop, and that made it all better.