#flashfiction – The Write Scribe

Lucid

They keep pulling her away from her piano. She isn’t yet lucid, but trying to fight her way out of the nightmare. The strangers. Why

The sound of the water lapping against the shore. It soothes my cares away. Endless peace. Endless hope.

“Maybe the crescent moon is a hopeful sign,” she said to him. They were sitting on their porch looking off at the crescent moon hanging

Uwin, the small man who would train Ladd to be a wizard, walked through the door that connected the grocery shop and the living quarters

On Ladd’s family’s first night at their hut after he left for London to apprenticeship with the small man, there was a sense of emptiness,

Ladd and the small man who had fetched him from the village of Farnsworth reached London after a long walk of about 20 kilometers. Cat