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The Silent Flowers of the Magician’s Garden

Something hardened in my world, the way it did every time my father told me I had to become a man and that being a man meant being brave. As something acquired another layer of earth crust, fossilizing more completely inside me, something else emerged from its cocoon like a late summer moth, soft and fragile, dancing around flames.

Something hardened in my world, the way it did every time my father told me that being a man meant being brave.
Witch’s Road

The bees laughed with their witch, a flurrying spiral above her head, spinning the shadows of the room like a top, and Catalina flinched. She didn’t look away, even as the Witch spoke, and those eyes showed her herself, and other things.

The forest gave Catalina the road; for it was not a sleeping forest.
Audio Fiction Podcast:
The Silent Flowers of the Magician’s Garden
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Something hardened in my world, the way it did every time my father told me that being a man meant being brave.
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Across from her, the antlered man pointed at the water. “Best you look.”