Long fiction, short stories, endless world building. I have too many things rolling around in my imagination; perhaps if I get better at sharing, I'll get better at finishing.
The use of simple, every day bricks to create stunning architectural elements, like the columns on either side of the red doors for the fire truck, and the decorative trim along the roofline. Even the snowman is cleverly designed.
A brief warning, this discusses the looming death of a beloved dog. If this is a trigger for you, I apologize and suggest you skip this one.
The rustle sounded again. Looking down, the empress focused her eyes upon the long hems of her skirts. There! The smallest of wriggles!
Appreciation for you, whomever you may be, that takes time out of their busy day, their hectic life, to read my silly stories.
And now, everything was gone.
"Is this your first ritual, lass?" asked a tall, bald man with arms the size of tree trunks, laced with tattoos.
What had the words her mother had always said? It was never too late to make amends. But she wondered if this time, she were indeed too late.
Every tree that surrounded the small glade had a story to tell, a whispered history only those with the skill to listen could hear.
It was becoming more than they could bear.
Rhaynah bowed low to the female dragon, remembering her studies of the proper etiquette to show a dragon. Especially one of which you hoped to care for their eggs. Dragons and humans lived in harmony, each provided a service to the other.
Whitney Writes... 