#urbanfantasy — Public Fediverse posts

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 135 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Rum #TimeTravelAuthors 9/19. Change

I didn’t go to sleep again. There didn’t seem to be any need. Instead, I thought about what I should do.

After Weena had a good cry, she crawled over to me and laid her head in my lap. I stroked her hair and spoke softly to her. I was sorry that my rejection had hurt her, but I was glad that it hadn’t damaged our relationship. She was my only ally here.

By the time light came through the windows, I had a plan. I needed to learn if there were other races in this world besides the Fairies and the Morlock. But where to look? Wells’s time-traveler hadn’t seen any, so they might be hard to find. Asking the Fae for help would be pointless, but with luck, Weena would know. The trick would be communicating with her, but I thought I’d figured that out.

Below, the fairies stirred and began eating noisily. They were a #rum lot.

When I descended with my partner, who seemed as gay as yesterday, the diners paid us no attention. There were no thanks for driving off the Morlocks, but I wasn’t expecting any. You might as well expect a butterfly to #change into an ant as the wee folk to reflect on the past or worry about the future.

After a breakfast of a slightly starchy melon with a pleasant, mild citrus flavor, along with a mix of nuts, round pears, and berries, I led Weena out into the “garden” to a secluded alcove under some nut trees. The screening rhodies would ensure the fairies didn’t disturb us.

I sat my companion down on a log.

Time to do my magic!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 135 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Rum #TimeTravelAuthors 9/19. Change

I didn’t go to sleep again. There didn’t seem to be any need. Instead, I thought about what I should do.

After Weena had a good cry, she crawled over to me and laid her head in my lap. I stroked her hair and spoke softly to her. I was sorry that my rejection had hurt her, but I was glad that it hadn’t damaged our relationship. She was my only ally here.

By the time light came through the windows, I had a plan. I needed to learn if there were other races in this world besides the Fairies and the Morlock. But where to look? Wells’s time-traveler hadn’t seen any, so they might be hard to find. Asking the Fae for help would be pointless, but with luck, Weena would know. The trick would be communicating with her, but I thought I’d figured that out.

Below, the fairies stirred and began eating noisily. They were a #rum lot.

When I descended with my partner, who seemed as gay as yesterday, the diners paid us no attention. There were no thanks for driving off the Morlocks, but I wasn’t expecting any. You might as well expect a butterfly to #change into an ant as the wee folk to reflect on the past or worry about the future.

After a breakfast of a slightly starchy melon with a pleasant, mild citrus flavor, along with a mix of nuts, round pears, and berries, I led Weena out into the “garden” to a secluded alcove under some nut trees. The screening rhodies would ensure the fairies didn’t disturb us.

I sat my companion down on a log.

Time to do my magic!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 135 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Rum #TimeTravelAuthors 9/19. Change

I didn’t go to sleep again. There didn’t seem to be any need. Instead, I thought about what I should do.

After Weena had a good cry, she crawled over to me and laid her head in my lap. I stroked her hair and spoke softly to her. I was sorry that my rejection had hurt her, but I was glad that it hadn’t damaged our relationship. She was my only ally here.

By the time light came through the windows, I had a plan. I needed to learn if there were other races in this world besides the Fairies and the Morlock. But where to look? Wells’s time-traveler hadn’t seen any, so they might be hard to find. Asking the Fae for help would be pointless, but with luck, Weena would know. The trick would be communicating with her, but I thought I’d figured that out.

Below, the fairies stirred and began eating noisily. They were a #rum lot.

When I descended with my partner, who seemed as gay as yesterday, the diners paid us no attention. There were no thanks for driving off the Morlocks, but I wasn’t expecting any. You might as well expect a butterfly to #change into an ant as the wee folk to reflect on the past or worry about the future.

After a breakfast of a slightly starchy melon with a pleasant, mild citrus flavor, along with a mix of nuts, round pears, and berries, I led Weena out into the “garden” to a secluded alcove under some nut trees. The screening rhodies would ensure the fairies didn’t disturb us.

I sat my companion down on a log.

Time to do my magic!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 135 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Rum #TimeTravelAuthors 9/19. Change

I didn’t go to sleep again. There didn’t seem to be any need. Instead, I thought about what I should do.

After Weena had a good cry, she crawled over to me and laid her head in my lap. I stroked her hair and spoke softly to her. I was sorry that my rejection had hurt her, but I was glad that it hadn’t damaged our relationship. She was my only ally here.

By the time light came through the windows, I had a plan. I needed to learn if there were other races in this world besides the Fairies and the Morlock. But where to look? Wells’s time-traveler hadn’t seen any, so they might be hard to find. Asking the Fae for help would be pointless, but with luck, Weena would know. The trick would be communicating with her, but I thought I’d figured that out.

Below, the fairies stirred and began eating noisily. They were a #rum lot.

When I descended with my partner, who seemed as gay as yesterday, the diners paid us no attention. There were no thanks for driving off the Morlocks, but I wasn’t expecting any. You might as well expect a butterfly to #change into an ant as the wee folk to reflect on the past or worry about the future.

After a breakfast of a slightly starchy melon with a pleasant, mild citrus flavor, along with a mix of nuts, round pears, and berries, I led Weena out into the “garden” to a secluded alcove under some nut trees. The screening rhodies would ensure the fairies didn’t disturb us.

I sat my companion down on a log.

Time to do my magic!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 135 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Rum #TimeTravelAuthors 9/19. Change

I didn’t go to sleep again. There didn’t seem to be any need. Instead, I thought about what I should do.

After Weena had a good cry, she crawled over to me and laid her head in my lap. I stroked her hair and spoke softly to her. I was sorry that my rejection had hurt her, but I was glad that it hadn’t damaged our relationship. She was my only ally here.

By the time light came through the windows, I had a plan. I needed to learn if there were other races in this world besides the Fairies and the Morlock. But where to look? Wells’s time-traveler hadn’t seen any, so they might be hard to find. Asking the Fae for help would be pointless, but with luck, Weena would know. The trick would be communicating with her, but I thought I’d figured that out.

Below, the fairies stirred and began eating noisily. They were a #rum lot.

When I descended with my partner, who seemed as gay as yesterday, the diners paid us no attention. There were no thanks for driving off the Morlocks, but I wasn’t expecting any. You might as well expect a butterfly to #change into an ant as the wee folk to reflect on the past or worry about the future.

After a breakfast of a slightly starchy melon with a pleasant, mild citrus flavor, along with a mix of nuts, round pears, and berries, I led Weena out into the “garden” to a secluded alcove under some nut trees. The screening rhodies would ensure the fairies didn’t disturb us.

I sat my companion down on a log.

Time to do my magic!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

Killer Heart (The Cat Lady Chronicles #5) by Harper Helen
Release Date September 18, 2026
#Fantasy #UrbanFantasy

https://www.risingshadow.net/book/89231-killer-heart

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 134, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Rely #TimeTravelAuthors 9/17. Character's regret

After the Morlock attack, the fairies below me seethed aimlessly, weeping and wailing. But as with all their emotions, their agitation was transient, and they soon settled down to sleep as if nothing had happened. Not one of them checked if the individuals the Morlocks had almost abducted needed anything. This was not a society where you could #rely on your neighbors. I was quickly souring on this utopia.

Weena grew silent, too, and then wrapped her arms around me. “Weena, luv, Henny.”

The torchlight reflected off her face, making her eyes glitter. Her lip trembled. I didn’t know whether it was fear, release of tension, or some tender emotion. She reminded me less of a woman and more of a child or a dog. I doubted what she felt was really love, rather than something akin to a canine’s affection for its master.

I responded by stroking her head. Her hair was silky. Blue patterns of static electricity played across it as I ran my hand over it. “It’s okay,” I said. “Morlock gone.”

She released her grip on me, and with one hand took my arm, tugging on it. “Coom. Weena luv, Henny.” With her other hand, she attempted to open my robes.

I shook her off and said, “No.” I wished I could have said, “Cuddling only,” but I didn’t think she would understand that.

“Henny no luv Weena?”

“No luv. Henny like Weena.” I reached out to stroke her hair again, but she moved away and huddled in a corner. I could hear her crying, her sobs mingling with the name Hurburth.

I wondered if Hurburth had loved Weena the way she wanted to be. And if so, where did he go? However, I wasn’t him, and I didn’t love Weena like that. I regretted hurting her, but not turning down her offer. There was an ache, though. Her offer had brought up a deep sense of regret. I didn’t know what it was for, but I knew I had lost something dear to me.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 134, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Rely #TimeTravelAuthors 9/17. Character's regret

After the Morlock attack, the fairies below me seethed aimlessly, weeping and wailing. But as with all their emotions, their agitation was transient, and they soon settled down to sleep as if nothing had happened. Not one of them checked if the individuals the Morlocks had almost abducted needed anything. This was not a society where you could #rely on your neighbors. I was quickly souring on this utopia.

Weena grew silent, too, and then wrapped her arms around me. “Weena, luv, Henny.”

The torchlight reflected off her face, making her eyes glitter. Her lip trembled. I didn’t know whether it was fear, release of tension, or some tender emotion. She reminded me less of a woman and more of a child or a dog. I doubted what she felt was really love, rather than something akin to a canine’s affection for its master.

I responded by stroking her head. Her hair was silky. Blue patterns of static electricity played across it as I ran my hand over it. “It’s okay,” I said. “Morlock gone.”

She released her grip on me, and with one hand took my arm, tugging on it. “Coom. Weena luv, Henny.” With her other hand, she attempted to open my robes.

I shook her off and said, “No.” I wished I could have said, “Cuddling only,” but I didn’t think she would understand that.

“Henny no luv Weena?”

“No luv. Henny like Weena.” I reached out to stroke her hair again, but she moved away and huddled in a corner. I could hear her crying, her sobs mingling with the name Hurburth.

I wondered if Hurburth had loved Weena the way she wanted to be. And if so, where did he go? However, I wasn’t him, and I didn’t love Weena like that. I regretted hurting her, but not turning down her offer. There was an ache, though. Her offer had brought up a deep sense of regret. I didn’t know what it was for, but I knew I had lost something dear to me.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 134, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Rely #TimeTravelAuthors 9/17. Character's regret

After the Morlock attack, the fairies below me seethed aimlessly, weeping and wailing. But as with all their emotions, their agitation was transient, and they soon settled down to sleep as if nothing had happened. Not one of them checked if the individuals the Morlocks had almost abducted needed anything. This was not a society where you could #rely on your neighbors. I was quickly souring on this utopia.

Weena grew silent, too, and then wrapped her arms around me. “Weena, luv, Henny.”

The torchlight reflected off her face, making her eyes glitter. Her lip trembled. I didn’t know whether it was fear, release of tension, or some tender emotion. She reminded me less of a woman and more of a child or a dog. I doubted what she felt was really love, rather than something akin to a canine’s affection for its master.

I responded by stroking her head. Her hair was silky. Blue patterns of static electricity played across it as I ran my hand over it. “It’s okay,” I said. “Morlock gone.”

She released her grip on me, and with one hand took my arm, tugging on it. “Coom. Weena luv, Henny.” With her other hand, she attempted to open my robes.

I shook her off and said, “No.” I wished I could have said, “Cuddling only,” but I didn’t think she would understand that.

“Henny no luv Weena?”

“No luv. Henny like Weena.” I reached out to stroke her hair again, but she moved away and huddled in a corner. I could hear her crying, her sobs mingling with the name Hurburth.

I wondered if Hurburth had loved Weena the way she wanted to be. And if so, where did he go? However, I wasn’t him, and I didn’t love Weena like that. I regretted hurting her, but not turning down her offer. There was an ache, though. Her offer had brought up a deep sense of regret. I didn’t know what it was for, but I knew I had lost something dear to me.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 134, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Rely #TimeTravelAuthors 9/17. Character's regret

After the Morlock attack, the fairies below me seethed aimlessly, weeping and wailing. But as with all their emotions, their agitation was transient, and they soon settled down to sleep as if nothing had happened. Not one of them checked if the individuals the Morlocks had almost abducted needed anything. This was not a society where you could #rely on your neighbors. I was quickly souring on this utopia.

Weena grew silent, too, and then wrapped her arms around me. “Weena, luv, Henny.”

The torchlight reflected off her face, making her eyes glitter. Her lip trembled. I didn’t know whether it was fear, release of tension, or some tender emotion. She reminded me less of a woman and more of a child or a dog. I doubted what she felt was really love, rather than something akin to a canine’s affection for its master.

I responded by stroking her head. Her hair was silky. Blue patterns of static electricity played across it as I ran my hand over it. “It’s okay,” I said. “Morlock gone.”

She released her grip on me, and with one hand took my arm, tugging on it. “Coom. Weena luv, Henny.” With her other hand, she attempted to open my robes.

I shook her off and said, “No.” I wished I could have said, “Cuddling only,” but I didn’t think she would understand that.

“Henny no luv Weena?”

“No luv. Henny like Weena.” I reached out to stroke her hair again, but she moved away and huddled in a corner. I could hear her crying, her sobs mingling with the name Hurburth.

I wondered if Hurburth had loved Weena the way she wanted to be. And if so, where did he go? However, I wasn’t him, and I didn’t love Weena like that. I regretted hurting her, but not turning down her offer. There was an ache, though. Her offer had brought up a deep sense of regret. I didn’t know what it was for, but I knew I had lost something dear to me.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 134, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Rely #TimeTravelAuthors 9/17. Character's regret

After the Morlock attack, the fairies below me seethed aimlessly, weeping and wailing. But as with all their emotions, their agitation was transient, and they soon settled down to sleep as if nothing had happened. Not one of them checked if the individuals the Morlocks had almost abducted needed anything. This was not a society where you could #rely on your neighbors. I was quickly souring on this utopia.

Weena grew silent, too, and then wrapped her arms around me. “Weena, luv, Henny.”

The torchlight reflected off her face, making her eyes glitter. Her lip trembled. I didn’t know whether it was fear, release of tension, or some tender emotion. She reminded me less of a woman and more of a child or a dog. I doubted what she felt was really love, rather than something akin to a canine’s affection for its master.

I responded by stroking her head. Her hair was silky. Blue patterns of static electricity played across it as I ran my hand over it. “It’s okay,” I said. “Morlock gone.”

She released her grip on me, and with one hand took my arm, tugging on it. “Coom. Weena luv, Henny.” With her other hand, she attempted to open my robes.

I shook her off and said, “No.” I wished I could have said, “Cuddling only,” but I didn’t think she would understand that.

“Henny no luv Weena?”

“No luv. Henny like Weena.” I reached out to stroke her hair again, but she moved away and huddled in a corner. I could hear her crying, her sobs mingling with the name Hurburth.

I wondered if Hurburth had loved Weena the way she wanted to be. And if so, where did he go? However, I wasn’t him, and I didn’t love Weena like that. I regretted hurting her, but not turning down her offer. There was an ache, though. Her offer had brought up a deep sense of regret. I didn’t know what it was for, but I knew I had lost something dear to me.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 22 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—Pyramid of Providence

Emily & Bijou enter the Pink Pyramid of Providence!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 22 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—Pyramid of Providence

Emily & Bijou enter the Pink Pyramid of Providence!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 22 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—Pyramid of Providence

Emily & Bijou enter the Pink Pyramid of Providence!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 22 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—Pyramid of Providence

Emily & Bijou enter the Pink Pyramid of Providence!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 22 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—Pyramid of Providence

Emily & Bijou enter the Pink Pyramid of Providence!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 133, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 exodus #TimeTravelAuthors 9/11. Has your MC ever been in a fight?

The trip up to the mezzanine was tricky. In many places, the steps trembled under my weight, and in other spots they were missing. My heart was in my mouth when I had to jump over the gaps. Weena struggled even more, so I carried her over the holes. Each time, she buried her face in my chest, her eyes tightly shut.

At each stage, the fairies below laughed and clapped. A few of them tried following us, but turned back at the first obstacle.

In the end, we failed to reach the top. We stopped on a landing instead. Dust blanketed the floor, undisturbed for years. It wasn’t a pleasant place to camp, but at least it was safe.

Slumber evaded me when we lay down. It was almost as if I didn’t need it. I stared into the dark thinking for a long time, with Weena curled up around me. Finally, her warmth and the soft lullaby of her breathing, joined by the rustle of fairies below, lulled me to sleep.

I awoke to a rending scream. Next to me, Weena was trembling. “Mourloks,” she whimpered.

When I peered out into the room, it was too dark to see anything. “I wish I had a lantern,” I thought.

“Eye-yeeee!” I shrieked as a flaming branch appeared in my hand.

This was the second instance that something I wished for appeared. The last time it had happened behind my back. Since I hadn’t witnessed the clothes appear at the sphinx, I’d written it off as a mystery. This time there was no mistake; I had conjured a light from thin air. What was going on?

Feral howls brought me back to the present, and I looked over the railing. Below, I could make out pallid, mushroom-gray creatures holding unresisting fairies. Pandemonium broke out. The wee folk screamed in terror while the Morlocks howled in pain and averted their eyes from the light.

This was possibly the first time I’d ever fought, but I wouldn’t let monsters carry off any of the fae, no matter how pathetic they seemed. I hurled the burning brand among the loathsome creatures and wished for another torch, which I also threw. By the time I summoned the third flaming branch, the Morlocks had fled in a mad #exodus.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 133, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 exodus #TimeTravelAuthors 9/11. Has your MC ever been in a fight?

The trip up to the mezzanine was tricky. In many places, the steps trembled under my weight, and in other spots they were missing. My heart was in my mouth when I had to jump over the gaps. Weena struggled even more, so I carried her over the holes. Each time, she buried her face in my chest, her eyes tightly shut.

At each stage, the fairies below laughed and clapped. A few of them tried following us, but turned back at the first obstacle.

In the end, we failed to reach the top. We stopped on a landing instead. Dust blanketed the floor, undisturbed for years. It wasn’t a pleasant place to camp, but at least it was safe.

Slumber evaded me when we lay down. It was almost as if I didn’t need it. I stared into the dark thinking for a long time, with Weena curled up around me. Finally, her warmth and the soft lullaby of her breathing, joined by the rustle of fairies below, lulled me to sleep.

I awoke to a rending scream. Next to me, Weena was trembling. “Mourloks,” she whimpered.

When I peered out into the room, it was too dark to see anything. “I wish I had a lantern,” I thought.

“Eye-yeeee!” I shrieked as a flaming branch appeared in my hand.

This was the second instance that something I wished for appeared. The last time it had happened behind my back. Since I hadn’t witnessed the clothes appear at the sphinx, I’d written it off as a mystery. This time there was no mistake; I had conjured a light from thin air. What was going on?

Feral howls brought me back to the present, and I looked over the railing. Below, I could make out pallid, mushroom-gray creatures holding unresisting fairies. Pandemonium broke out. The wee folk screamed in terror while the Morlocks howled in pain and averted their eyes from the light.

This was possibly the first time I’d ever fought, but I wouldn’t let monsters carry off any of the fae, no matter how pathetic they seemed. I hurled the burning brand among the loathsome creatures and wished for another torch, which I also threw. By the time I summoned the third flaming branch, the Morlocks had fled in a mad #exodus.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 133, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 exodus #TimeTravelAuthors 9/11. Has your MC ever been in a fight?

The trip up to the mezzanine was tricky. In many places, the steps trembled under my weight, and in other spots they were missing. My heart was in my mouth when I had to jump over the gaps. Weena struggled even more, so I carried her over the holes. Each time, she buried her face in my chest, her eyes tightly shut.

At each stage, the fairies below laughed and clapped. A few of them tried following us, but turned back at the first obstacle.

In the end, we failed to reach the top. We stopped on a landing instead. Dust blanketed the floor, undisturbed for years. It wasn’t a pleasant place to camp, but at least it was safe.

Slumber evaded me when we lay down. It was almost as if I didn’t need it. I stared into the dark thinking for a long time, with Weena curled up around me. Finally, her warmth and the soft lullaby of her breathing, joined by the rustle of fairies below, lulled me to sleep.

I awoke to a rending scream. Next to me, Weena was trembling. “Mourloks,” she whimpered.

When I peered out into the room, it was too dark to see anything. “I wish I had a lantern,” I thought.

“Eye-yeeee!” I shrieked as a flaming branch appeared in my hand.

This was the second instance that something I wished for appeared. The last time it had happened behind my back. Since I hadn’t witnessed the clothes appear at the sphinx, I’d written it off as a mystery. This time there was no mistake; I had conjured a light from thin air. What was going on?

Feral howls brought me back to the present, and I looked over the railing. Below, I could make out pallid, mushroom-gray creatures holding unresisting fairies. Pandemonium broke out. The wee folk screamed in terror while the Morlocks howled in pain and averted their eyes from the light.

This was possibly the first time I’d ever fought, but I wouldn’t let monsters carry off any of the fae, no matter how pathetic they seemed. I hurled the burning brand among the loathsome creatures and wished for another torch, which I also threw. By the time I summoned the third flaming branch, the Morlocks had fled in a mad #exodus.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 133, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 exodus #TimeTravelAuthors 9/11. Has your MC ever been in a fight?

The trip up to the mezzanine was tricky. In many places, the steps trembled under my weight, and in other spots they were missing. My heart was in my mouth when I had to jump over the gaps. Weena struggled even more, so I carried her over the holes. Each time, she buried her face in my chest, her eyes tightly shut.

At each stage, the fairies below laughed and clapped. A few of them tried following us, but turned back at the first obstacle.

In the end, we failed to reach the top. We stopped on a landing instead. Dust blanketed the floor, undisturbed for years. It wasn’t a pleasant place to camp, but at least it was safe.

Slumber evaded me when we lay down. It was almost as if I didn’t need it. I stared into the dark thinking for a long time, with Weena curled up around me. Finally, her warmth and the soft lullaby of her breathing, joined by the rustle of fairies below, lulled me to sleep.

I awoke to a rending scream. Next to me, Weena was trembling. “Mourloks,” she whimpered.

When I peered out into the room, it was too dark to see anything. “I wish I had a lantern,” I thought.

“Eye-yeeee!” I shrieked as a flaming branch appeared in my hand.

This was the second instance that something I wished for appeared. The last time it had happened behind my back. Since I hadn’t witnessed the clothes appear at the sphinx, I’d written it off as a mystery. This time there was no mistake; I had conjured a light from thin air. What was going on?

Feral howls brought me back to the present, and I looked over the railing. Below, I could make out pallid, mushroom-gray creatures holding unresisting fairies. Pandemonium broke out. The wee folk screamed in terror while the Morlocks howled in pain and averted their eyes from the light.

This was possibly the first time I’d ever fought, but I wouldn’t let monsters carry off any of the fae, no matter how pathetic they seemed. I hurled the burning brand among the loathsome creatures and wished for another torch, which I also threw. By the time I summoned the third flaming branch, the Morlocks had fled in a mad #exodus.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 133, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 exodus #TimeTravelAuthors 9/11. Has your MC ever been in a fight?

The trip up to the mezzanine was tricky. In many places, the steps trembled under my weight, and in other spots they were missing. My heart was in my mouth when I had to jump over the gaps. Weena struggled even more, so I carried her over the holes. Each time, she buried her face in my chest, her eyes tightly shut.

At each stage, the fairies below laughed and clapped. A few of them tried following us, but turned back at the first obstacle.

In the end, we failed to reach the top. We stopped on a landing instead. Dust blanketed the floor, undisturbed for years. It wasn’t a pleasant place to camp, but at least it was safe.

Slumber evaded me when we lay down. It was almost as if I didn’t need it. I stared into the dark thinking for a long time, with Weena curled up around me. Finally, her warmth and the soft lullaby of her breathing, joined by the rustle of fairies below, lulled me to sleep.

I awoke to a rending scream. Next to me, Weena was trembling. “Mourloks,” she whimpered.

When I peered out into the room, it was too dark to see anything. “I wish I had a lantern,” I thought.

“Eye-yeeee!” I shrieked as a flaming branch appeared in my hand.

This was the second instance that something I wished for appeared. The last time it had happened behind my back. Since I hadn’t witnessed the clothes appear at the sphinx, I’d written it off as a mystery. This time there was no mistake; I had conjured a light from thin air. What was going on?

Feral howls brought me back to the present, and I looked over the railing. Below, I could make out pallid, mushroom-gray creatures holding unresisting fairies. Pandemonium broke out. The wee folk screamed in terror while the Morlocks howled in pain and averted their eyes from the light.

This was possibly the first time I’d ever fought, but I wouldn’t let monsters carry off any of the fae, no matter how pathetic they seemed. I hurled the burning brand among the loathsome creatures and wished for another torch, which I also threw. By the time I summoned the third flaming branch, the Morlocks had fled in a mad #exodus.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 132, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cain #TimeTravelAuthors 9/10. Whatever

“Coom,” my strange little companion said, pulling me toward the tables. We sat down cross-legged. If Emily had been there, I would have called it “criss-cross applesauce” to mess with her.

There it was again! That name! Who was Emily? She must be important.

The brilliant indigo eyes of a woman surfaced in my mind. She was sipping soup with her face hidden behind ivy on the…

Then it was gone again.

“Hurburth?” Weena said, poking me in the ribs.

I smiled at her and looked around. We were sitting near the edge of the room. Their clothes were either drabber or brighter than those at the further tables. Some wore wrinkled or stained items. Still others displayed faces painted with berry dye or colored mud. One had a bandaged hand, and a strawberry birthmark marred another’s cheek. From the way the fairies avoided him, you’d have thought he bore the mark of #Cain. And then there was Weena, with her fire-scarred face.

“Misfits and outcasts,” I said.

Emily… I mean, Weena.

She piled fruit in front of me, and I ate it absentmindedly as I studied my environment.

The little people’s manners were atrocious. When they finished something, they tossed the remains on the floor. They grabbed at the food and threw it at each other.

My companion carefully watched me eat and imitated me. Unlike the others, who laughed and talked like unattended kindergartners, she chewed silently and only spoke when her mouth was empty.

Eventually, she stopped, her brows knit, and touched one of my breasts. “Not Hurburth?”

“No, not Hurburth.” I pointed to myself. “Henrietta.”

“Henreetaa?”

“Henny.”

“Henny,” she repeated, getting it correct.

I nodded.

“Henny, luke Weena?”

“Luke?” I thought. “Luke? Oh, ‘like!’”

“Like,” I said, pointing first at myself and then at her. “Henny, like Weena.” I spread my hands wide.

When we finished eating, it was growing dark inside the building.

“Come,” I said and led her to the stairs leading to the platform.

They were in poor shape, with broken treads and gaps. I wondered if it would be safer to face the Morlocks than to climb.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 132, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cain #TimeTravelAuthors 9/10. Whatever

“Coom,” my strange little companion said, pulling me toward the tables. We sat down cross-legged. If Emily had been there, I would have called it “criss-cross applesauce” to mess with her.

There it was again! That name! Who was Emily? She must be important.

The brilliant indigo eyes of a woman surfaced in my mind. She was sipping soup with her face hidden behind ivy on the…

Then it was gone again.

“Hurburth?” Weena said, poking me in the ribs.

I smiled at her and looked around. We were sitting near the edge of the room. Their clothes were either drabber or brighter than those at the further tables. Some wore wrinkled or stained items. Still others displayed faces painted with berry dye or colored mud. One had a bandaged hand, and a strawberry birthmark marred another’s cheek. From the way the fairies avoided him, you’d have thought he bore the mark of #Cain. And then there was Weena, with her fire-scarred face.

“Misfits and outcasts,” I said.

Emily… I mean, Weena.

She piled fruit in front of me, and I ate it absentmindedly as I studied my environment.

The little people’s manners were atrocious. When they finished something, they tossed the remains on the floor. They grabbed at the food and threw it at each other.

My companion carefully watched me eat and imitated me. Unlike the others, who laughed and talked like unattended kindergartners, she chewed silently and only spoke when her mouth was empty.

Eventually, she stopped, her brows knit, and touched one of my breasts. “Not Hurburth?”

“No, not Hurburth.” I pointed to myself. “Henrietta.”

“Henreetaa?”

“Henny.”

“Henny,” she repeated, getting it correct.

I nodded.

“Henny, luke Weena?”

“Luke?” I thought. “Luke? Oh, ‘like!’”

“Like,” I said, pointing first at myself and then at her. “Henny, like Weena.” I spread my hands wide.

When we finished eating, it was growing dark inside the building.

“Come,” I said and led her to the stairs leading to the platform.

They were in poor shape, with broken treads and gaps. I wondered if it would be safer to face the Morlocks than to climb.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 132, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cain #TimeTravelAuthors 9/10. Whatever

“Coom,” my strange little companion said, pulling me toward the tables. We sat down cross-legged. If Emily had been there, I would have called it “criss-cross applesauce” to mess with her.

There it was again! That name! Who was Emily? She must be important.

The brilliant indigo eyes of a woman surfaced in my mind. She was sipping soup with her face hidden behind ivy on the…

Then it was gone again.

“Hurburth?” Weena said, poking me in the ribs.

I smiled at her and looked around. We were sitting near the edge of the room. Their clothes were either drabber or brighter than those at the further tables. Some wore wrinkled or stained items. Still others displayed faces painted with berry dye or colored mud. One had a bandaged hand, and a strawberry birthmark marred another’s cheek. From the way the fairies avoided him, you’d have thought he bore the mark of #Cain. And then there was Weena, with her fire-scarred face.

“Misfits and outcasts,” I said.

Emily… I mean, Weena.

She piled fruit in front of me, and I ate it absentmindedly as I studied my environment.

The little people’s manners were atrocious. When they finished something, they tossed the remains on the floor. They grabbed at the food and threw it at each other.

My companion carefully watched me eat and imitated me. Unlike the others, who laughed and talked like unattended kindergartners, she chewed silently and only spoke when her mouth was empty.

Eventually, she stopped, her brows knit, and touched one of my breasts. “Not Hurburth?”

“No, not Hurburth.” I pointed to myself. “Henrietta.”

“Henreetaa?”

“Henny.”

“Henny,” she repeated, getting it correct.

I nodded.

“Henny, luke Weena?”

“Luke?” I thought. “Luke? Oh, ‘like!’”

“Like,” I said, pointing first at myself and then at her. “Henny, like Weena.” I spread my hands wide.

When we finished eating, it was growing dark inside the building.

“Come,” I said and led her to the stairs leading to the platform.

They were in poor shape, with broken treads and gaps. I wondered if it would be safer to face the Morlocks than to climb.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 132, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cain #TimeTravelAuthors 9/10. Whatever

“Coom,” my strange little companion said, pulling me toward the tables. We sat down cross-legged. If Emily had been there, I would have called it “criss-cross applesauce” to mess with her.

There it was again! That name! Who was Emily? She must be important.

The brilliant indigo eyes of a woman surfaced in my mind. She was sipping soup with her face hidden behind ivy on the…

Then it was gone again.

“Hurburth?” Weena said, poking me in the ribs.

I smiled at her and looked around. We were sitting near the edge of the room. Their clothes were either drabber or brighter than those at the further tables. Some wore wrinkled or stained items. Still others displayed faces painted with berry dye or colored mud. One had a bandaged hand, and a strawberry birthmark marred another’s cheek. From the way the fairies avoided him, you’d have thought he bore the mark of #Cain. And then there was Weena, with her fire-scarred face.

“Misfits and outcasts,” I said.

Emily… I mean, Weena.

She piled fruit in front of me, and I ate it absentmindedly as I studied my environment.

The little people’s manners were atrocious. When they finished something, they tossed the remains on the floor. They grabbed at the food and threw it at each other.

My companion carefully watched me eat and imitated me. Unlike the others, who laughed and talked like unattended kindergartners, she chewed silently and only spoke when her mouth was empty.

Eventually, she stopped, her brows knit, and touched one of my breasts. “Not Hurburth?”

“No, not Hurburth.” I pointed to myself. “Henrietta.”

“Henreetaa?”

“Henny.”

“Henny,” she repeated, getting it correct.

I nodded.

“Henny, luke Weena?”

“Luke?” I thought. “Luke? Oh, ‘like!’”

“Like,” I said, pointing first at myself and then at her. “Henny, like Weena.” I spread my hands wide.

When we finished eating, it was growing dark inside the building.

“Come,” I said and led her to the stairs leading to the platform.

They were in poor shape, with broken treads and gaps. I wondered if it would be safer to face the Morlocks than to climb.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 132, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cain #TimeTravelAuthors 9/10. Whatever

“Coom,” my strange little companion said, pulling me toward the tables. We sat down cross-legged. If Emily had been there, I would have called it “criss-cross applesauce” to mess with her.

There it was again! That name! Who was Emily? She must be important.

The brilliant indigo eyes of a woman surfaced in my mind. She was sipping soup with her face hidden behind ivy on the…

Then it was gone again.

“Hurburth?” Weena said, poking me in the ribs.

I smiled at her and looked around. We were sitting near the edge of the room. Their clothes were either drabber or brighter than those at the further tables. Some wore wrinkled or stained items. Still others displayed faces painted with berry dye or colored mud. One had a bandaged hand, and a strawberry birthmark marred another’s cheek. From the way the fairies avoided him, you’d have thought he bore the mark of #Cain. And then there was Weena, with her fire-scarred face.

“Misfits and outcasts,” I said.

Emily… I mean, Weena.

She piled fruit in front of me, and I ate it absentmindedly as I studied my environment.

The little people’s manners were atrocious. When they finished something, they tossed the remains on the floor. They grabbed at the food and threw it at each other.

My companion carefully watched me eat and imitated me. Unlike the others, who laughed and talked like unattended kindergartners, she chewed silently and only spoke when her mouth was empty.

Eventually, she stopped, her brows knit, and touched one of my breasts. “Not Hurburth?”

“No, not Hurburth.” I pointed to myself. “Henrietta.”

“Henreetaa?”

“Henny.”

“Henny,” she repeated, getting it correct.

I nodded.

“Henny, luke Weena?”

“Luke?” I thought. “Luke? Oh, ‘like!’”

“Like,” I said, pointing first at myself and then at her. “Henny, like Weena.” I spread my hands wide.

When we finished eating, it was growing dark inside the building.

“Come,” I said and led her to the stairs leading to the platform.

They were in poor shape, with broken treads and gaps. I wondered if it would be safer to face the Morlocks than to climb.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 131, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Register #ScribesAndMakers Share something you've been working on this month. #TimeTravelAuthors 09/9. laugh

Weena led me into the building through an arch decorated with elaborate carvings of dancing nymphs and satyrs. Like everything else, time had left them battered. The building’s inside was the same: a huge vaulted chamber hung with brown tapestries so faded that any patterns had long since vanished. The floor was constructed of slabs of a metal resembling aluminum. While free of tarnish, countless feet had worn deep channels along the fairy folk’s paths. Raised tables of polished granite ran the length of the room. At only half a meter tall, they were an ideal height for wee people to kneel and eat the fruit heaped upon them.

Silken pillows clustered in the center of the chamber between the tables. I remember from “The Time Machine” that this is where the fairies slept huddled together. I shivered as it #registered that this was also where the Morlocks selected their meals from the helpless fae.

A broad mezzanine ran beneath the stained-glass windows. I would later discover that dilapidated stairs ascended to it.

I pointed to the balcony and spoke to Weena in pidgin English. “Sleep, you, me.” I used sign language to help.

She #laughed, nodded, and said, “Hurburth, foony.”

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 131, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Register #ScribesAndMakers Share something you've been working on this month. #TimeTravelAuthors 09/9. laugh

Weena led me into the building through an arch decorated with elaborate carvings of dancing nymphs and satyrs. Like everything else, time had left them battered. The building’s inside was the same: a huge vaulted chamber hung with brown tapestries so faded that any patterns had long since vanished. The floor was constructed of slabs of a metal resembling aluminum. While free of tarnish, countless feet had worn deep channels along the fairy folk’s paths. Raised tables of polished granite ran the length of the room. At only half a meter tall, they were an ideal height for wee people to kneel and eat the fruit heaped upon them.

Silken pillows clustered in the center of the chamber between the tables. I remember from “The Time Machine” that this is where the fairies slept huddled together. I shivered as it #registered that this was also where the Morlocks selected their meals from the helpless fae.

A broad mezzanine ran beneath the stained-glass windows. I would later discover that dilapidated stairs ascended to it.

I pointed to the balcony and spoke to Weena in pidgin English. “Sleep, you, me.” I used sign language to help.

She #laughed, nodded, and said, “Hurburth, foony.”

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 131, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Register #ScribesAndMakers Share something you've been working on this month. #TimeTravelAuthors 09/9. laugh

Weena led me into the building through an arch decorated with elaborate carvings of dancing nymphs and satyrs. Like everything else, time had left them battered. The building’s inside was the same: a huge vaulted chamber hung with brown tapestries so faded that any patterns had long since vanished. The floor was constructed of slabs of a metal resembling aluminum. While free of tarnish, countless feet had worn deep channels along the fairy folk’s paths. Raised tables of polished granite ran the length of the room. At only half a meter tall, they were an ideal height for wee people to kneel and eat the fruit heaped upon them.

Silken pillows clustered in the center of the chamber between the tables. I remember from “The Time Machine” that this is where the fairies slept huddled together. I shivered as it #registered that this was also where the Morlocks selected their meals from the helpless fae.

A broad mezzanine ran beneath the stained-glass windows. I would later discover that dilapidated stairs ascended to it.

I pointed to the balcony and spoke to Weena in pidgin English. “Sleep, you, me.” I used sign language to help.

She #laughed, nodded, and said, “Hurburth, foony.”

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 131, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Register #ScribesAndMakers Share something you've been working on this month. #TimeTravelAuthors 09/9. laugh

Weena led me into the building through an arch decorated with elaborate carvings of dancing nymphs and satyrs. Like everything else, time had left them battered. The building’s inside was the same: a huge vaulted chamber hung with brown tapestries so faded that any patterns had long since vanished. The floor was constructed of slabs of a metal resembling aluminum. While free of tarnish, countless feet had worn deep channels along the fairy folk’s paths. Raised tables of polished granite ran the length of the room. At only half a meter tall, they were an ideal height for wee people to kneel and eat the fruit heaped upon them.

Silken pillows clustered in the center of the chamber between the tables. I remember from “The Time Machine” that this is where the fairies slept huddled together. I shivered as it #registered that this was also where the Morlocks selected their meals from the helpless fae.

A broad mezzanine ran beneath the stained-glass windows. I would later discover that dilapidated stairs ascended to it.

I pointed to the balcony and spoke to Weena in pidgin English. “Sleep, you, me.” I used sign language to help.

She #laughed, nodded, and said, “Hurburth, foony.”

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 131, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Register #ScribesAndMakers Share something you've been working on this month. #TimeTravelAuthors 09/9. laugh

Weena led me into the building through an arch decorated with elaborate carvings of dancing nymphs and satyrs. Like everything else, time had left them battered. The building’s inside was the same: a huge vaulted chamber hung with brown tapestries so faded that any patterns had long since vanished. The floor was constructed of slabs of a metal resembling aluminum. While free of tarnish, countless feet had worn deep channels along the fairy folk’s paths. Raised tables of polished granite ran the length of the room. At only half a meter tall, they were an ideal height for wee people to kneel and eat the fruit heaped upon them.

Silken pillows clustered in the center of the chamber between the tables. I remember from “The Time Machine” that this is where the fairies slept huddled together. I shivered as it #registered that this was also where the Morlocks selected their meals from the helpless fae.

A broad mezzanine ran beneath the stained-glass windows. I would later discover that dilapidated stairs ascended to it.

I pointed to the balcony and spoke to Weena in pidgin English. “Sleep, you, me.” I used sign language to help.

She #laughed, nodded, and said, “Hurburth, foony.”

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 19 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—The Lagoon

Holy moly! A pyramid of solid pink coral!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 19 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—The Lagoon

Holy moly! A pyramid of solid pink coral!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 19 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—The Lagoon

Holy moly! A pyramid of solid pink coral!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 19 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—The Lagoon

Holy moly! A pyramid of solid pink coral!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)

Chapter 19 # EP 6: Late Jurassic Era, Lapin Island—The Lagoon

Holy moly! A pyramid of solid pink coral!

PIXIV Link:
AO3 Link:

Art by: Mai-sensei

Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow

The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.

Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”

I nodded, and we started toward the woods.

The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.

I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.

It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.

The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.

That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.

Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow

The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.

Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”

I nodded, and we started toward the woods.

The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.

I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.

It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.

The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.

That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.

Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow

The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.

Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”

I nodded, and we started toward the woods.

The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.

I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.

It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.

The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.

That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.

Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow

The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.

Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”

I nodded, and we started toward the woods.

The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.

I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.

It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.

The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.

That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.

Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow

The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.

Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”

I nodded, and we started toward the woods.

The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.

I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.

It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.

The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.

That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.

Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 129, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cant #TimeTravelAuthors 09/1. Introduce your story (use the word "fall")

The fairy, Weena, turned and spoke to the others, who were now traversing the circle, dancing a graceful yet chaotic dance while singing in the flowing language of her people. One word was clear: “Hurburth.” Upon speaking, she pointed at me. Was that my name or the type of creature I was? I don’t suppose it mattered; there were no other humans they could confuse me with.

I pointed to her and asked, “Who are you?”

“Who?” she asked, cocking her head in puzzlement. Then, touched her chest and said, “Weena—Freenn.” As she said the second word, she took my hand and smiled.

“Friend?” I asked.

She nodded and repeated, “Weena, freennd.”

I looked at her hand, then at her, and then back at her hand. It felt awkward. She seemed to know me and to be attached to me, even intimately. I, however, had no recollection of her. There wasn’t even a hint of familiarity. She was a total stranger.

When I tried tugging my hand free, she pouted, so I stopped. Her childish looks and behavior made me afraid of offending her. I needed an ally, and she was offering.

Meanwhile, the dancers spun around the circle faster and faster: twirling, #canting first to one side and then the other, weaving in and out, but never colliding. The pipes grew shrill, and their voices filled the air like a flock of chickadees. Periodically someone would #fall to the ground panting. Once rested, they either rejoined the dance or came to stare at me. Some stroked my cheeks or hair, while others decked me with flowers or offered me berries and nuts.

“The Time Machine,” I thought. Yeah, I had finally figured out where I was: The sphinx, the garden-like setting amid rhododendrons, effete people, and Weena—it all fit together. So now I knew my name and location, but not my history or why I was there.

I sighed. This adventure seemed all too familiar, yet puzzlingly different from the vague impression I had of my past. I was in a book—weird!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 129, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cant #TimeTravelAuthors 09/1. Introduce your story (use the word "fall")

The fairy, Weena, turned and spoke to the others, who were now traversing the circle, dancing a graceful yet chaotic dance while singing in the flowing language of her people. One word was clear: “Hurburth.” Upon speaking, she pointed at me. Was that my name or the type of creature I was? I don’t suppose it mattered; there were no other humans they could confuse me with.

I pointed to her and asked, “Who are you?”

“Who?” she asked, cocking her head in puzzlement. Then, touched her chest and said, “Weena—Freenn.” As she said the second word, she took my hand and smiled.

“Friend?” I asked.

She nodded and repeated, “Weena, freennd.”

I looked at her hand, then at her, and then back at her hand. It felt awkward. She seemed to know me and to be attached to me, even intimately. I, however, had no recollection of her. There wasn’t even a hint of familiarity. She was a total stranger.

When I tried tugging my hand free, she pouted, so I stopped. Her childish looks and behavior made me afraid of offending her. I needed an ally, and she was offering.

Meanwhile, the dancers spun around the circle faster and faster: twirling, #canting first to one side and then the other, weaving in and out, but never colliding. The pipes grew shrill, and their voices filled the air like a flock of chickadees. Periodically someone would #fall to the ground panting. Once rested, they either rejoined the dance or came to stare at me. Some stroked my cheeks or hair, while others decked me with flowers or offered me berries and nuts.

“The Time Machine,” I thought. Yeah, I had finally figured out where I was: The sphinx, the garden-like setting amid rhododendrons, effete people, and Weena—it all fit together. So now I knew my name and location, but not my history or why I was there.

I sighed. This adventure seemed all too familiar, yet puzzlingly different from the vague impression I had of my past. I was in a book—weird!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 129, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cant #TimeTravelAuthors 09/1. Introduce your story (use the word "fall")

The fairy, Weena, turned and spoke to the others, who were now traversing the circle, dancing a graceful yet chaotic dance while singing in the flowing language of her people. One word was clear: “Hurburth.” Upon speaking, she pointed at me. Was that my name or the type of creature I was? I don’t suppose it mattered; there were no other humans they could confuse me with.

I pointed to her and asked, “Who are you?”

“Who?” she asked, cocking her head in puzzlement. Then, touched her chest and said, “Weena—Freenn.” As she said the second word, she took my hand and smiled.

“Friend?” I asked.

She nodded and repeated, “Weena, freennd.”

I looked at her hand, then at her, and then back at her hand. It felt awkward. She seemed to know me and to be attached to me, even intimately. I, however, had no recollection of her. There wasn’t even a hint of familiarity. She was a total stranger.

When I tried tugging my hand free, she pouted, so I stopped. Her childish looks and behavior made me afraid of offending her. I needed an ally, and she was offering.

Meanwhile, the dancers spun around the circle faster and faster: twirling, #canting first to one side and then the other, weaving in and out, but never colliding. The pipes grew shrill, and their voices filled the air like a flock of chickadees. Periodically someone would #fall to the ground panting. Once rested, they either rejoined the dance or came to stare at me. Some stroked my cheeks or hair, while others decked me with flowers or offered me berries and nuts.

“The Time Machine,” I thought. Yeah, I had finally figured out where I was: The sphinx, the garden-like setting amid rhododendrons, effete people, and Weena—it all fit together. So now I knew my name and location, but not my history or why I was there.

I sighed. This adventure seemed all too familiar, yet puzzlingly different from the vague impression I had of my past. I was in a book—weird!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 129, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cant #TimeTravelAuthors 09/1. Introduce your story (use the word "fall")

The fairy, Weena, turned and spoke to the others, who were now traversing the circle, dancing a graceful yet chaotic dance while singing in the flowing language of her people. One word was clear: “Hurburth.” Upon speaking, she pointed at me. Was that my name or the type of creature I was? I don’t suppose it mattered; there were no other humans they could confuse me with.

I pointed to her and asked, “Who are you?”

“Who?” she asked, cocking her head in puzzlement. Then, touched her chest and said, “Weena—Freenn.” As she said the second word, she took my hand and smiled.

“Friend?” I asked.

She nodded and repeated, “Weena, freennd.”

I looked at her hand, then at her, and then back at her hand. It felt awkward. She seemed to know me and to be attached to me, even intimately. I, however, had no recollection of her. There wasn’t even a hint of familiarity. She was a total stranger.

When I tried tugging my hand free, she pouted, so I stopped. Her childish looks and behavior made me afraid of offending her. I needed an ally, and she was offering.

Meanwhile, the dancers spun around the circle faster and faster: twirling, #canting first to one side and then the other, weaving in and out, but never colliding. The pipes grew shrill, and their voices filled the air like a flock of chickadees. Periodically someone would #fall to the ground panting. Once rested, they either rejoined the dance or came to stare at me. Some stroked my cheeks or hair, while others decked me with flowers or offered me berries and nuts.

“The Time Machine,” I thought. Yeah, I had finally figured out where I was: The sphinx, the garden-like setting amid rhododendrons, effete people, and Weena—it all fit together. So now I knew my name and location, but not my history or why I was there.

I sighed. This adventure seemed all too familiar, yet puzzlingly different from the vague impression I had of my past. I was in a book—weird!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 129, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 Cant #TimeTravelAuthors 09/1. Introduce your story (use the word "fall")

The fairy, Weena, turned and spoke to the others, who were now traversing the circle, dancing a graceful yet chaotic dance while singing in the flowing language of her people. One word was clear: “Hurburth.” Upon speaking, she pointed at me. Was that my name or the type of creature I was? I don’t suppose it mattered; there were no other humans they could confuse me with.

I pointed to her and asked, “Who are you?”

“Who?” she asked, cocking her head in puzzlement. Then, touched her chest and said, “Weena—Freenn.” As she said the second word, she took my hand and smiled.

“Friend?” I asked.

She nodded and repeated, “Weena, freennd.”

I looked at her hand, then at her, and then back at her hand. It felt awkward. She seemed to know me and to be attached to me, even intimately. I, however, had no recollection of her. There wasn’t even a hint of familiarity. She was a total stranger.

When I tried tugging my hand free, she pouted, so I stopped. Her childish looks and behavior made me afraid of offending her. I needed an ally, and she was offering.

Meanwhile, the dancers spun around the circle faster and faster: twirling, #canting first to one side and then the other, weaving in and out, but never colliding. The pipes grew shrill, and their voices filled the air like a flock of chickadees. Periodically someone would #fall to the ground panting. Once rested, they either rejoined the dance or came to stare at me. Some stroked my cheeks or hair, while others decked me with flowers or offered me berries and nuts.

“The Time Machine,” I thought. Yeah, I had finally figured out where I was: The sphinx, the garden-like setting amid rhododendrons, effete people, and Weena—it all fit together. So now I knew my name and location, but not my history or why I was there.

I sighed. This adventure seemed all too familiar, yet puzzlingly different from the vague impression I had of my past. I was in a book—weird!

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

Crow With No Name: Part 2

#Wss366 Redundant #MastoPrompt Lung #ScribesAndMakers Hogwash

I was definitely tripping. Wings? Feathers? I’d been dosed!

The world was full of psychedelic colors, some of which I couldn't identify. The sidewalk wasn't flat anymore. It was layered and cross-hatched with patterns and shadows that I had walked over a thousand times without ever truly seeing. The witch’s vial rolled lazily, a drop of liquid still in it—its taste bitter on my tongue.

Meaning flooded me. The shiny wrapper fluttering in the wind: sweetness clinging to foil. The neighbor—I already knew her: yelling, sudden hands, jerky steps that cut the air wrong. Her form shrieked like a warning siren.

She seemed to offer me a bag of treats: nasty-yellow; awful-gritty-browns; tasty-soggy-golden-flakes; yummy-meat-hollow bones.

It was #hogwash! Best to stay away. I didn’t decide that. I just knew.

None of it was #redundant: motion-sight, all saturated with meaning.

I was in the air before I knew it: Threat-Motion-Arm! I filled my lungs and let out a warning screech so that everyone would know. “Warning, Bad lady!”

I was free of the earth. “Caw, caw,” I cried. “I’m here!”

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #Crows #Otherkin #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy

Crow With No Name: Part 2

#Wss366 Redundant #MastoPrompt Lung #ScribesAndMakers Hogwash

I was definitely tripping. Wings? Feathers? I’d been dosed!

The world was full of psychedelic colors, some of which I couldn't identify. The sidewalk wasn't flat anymore. It was layered and cross-hatched with patterns and shadows that I had walked over a thousand times without ever truly seeing. The witch’s vial rolled lazily, a drop of liquid still in it—its taste bitter on my tongue.

Meaning flooded me. The shiny wrapper fluttering in the wind: sweetness clinging to foil. The neighbor—I already knew her: yelling, sudden hands, jerky steps that cut the air wrong. Her form shrieked like a warning siren.

She seemed to offer me a bag of treats: nasty-yellow; awful-gritty-browns; tasty-soggy-golden-flakes; yummy-meat-hollow bones.

It was #hogwash! Best to stay away. I didn’t decide that. I just knew.

None of it was #redundant: motion-sight, all saturated with meaning.

I was in the air before I knew it: Threat-Motion-Arm! I filled my lungs and let out a warning screech so that everyone would know. “Warning, Bad lady!”

I was free of the earth. “Caw, caw,” I cried. “I’m here!”

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #Crows #Otherkin #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy

Crow With No Name: Part 2

#Wss366 Redundant #MastoPrompt Lung #ScribesAndMakers Hogwash

I was definitely tripping. Wings? Feathers? I’d been dosed!

The world was full of psychedelic colors, some of which I couldn't identify. The sidewalk wasn't flat anymore. It was layered and cross-hatched with patterns and shadows that I had walked over a thousand times without ever truly seeing. The witch’s vial rolled lazily, a drop of liquid still in it—its taste bitter on my tongue.

Meaning flooded me. The shiny wrapper fluttering in the wind: sweetness clinging to foil. The neighbor—I already knew her: yelling, sudden hands, jerky steps that cut the air wrong. Her form shrieked like a warning siren.

She seemed to offer me a bag of treats: nasty-yellow; awful-gritty-browns; tasty-soggy-golden-flakes; yummy-meat-hollow bones.

It was #hogwash! Best to stay away. I didn’t decide that. I just knew.

None of it was #redundant: motion-sight, all saturated with meaning.

I was in the air before I knew it: Threat-Motion-Arm! I filled my lungs and let out a warning screech so that everyone would know. “Warning, Bad lady!”

I was free of the earth. “Caw, caw,” I cried. “I’m here!”

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #Crows #Otherkin #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy

Crow With No Name: Part 2

#Wss366 Redundant #MastoPrompt Lung #ScribesAndMakers Hogwash

I was definitely tripping. Wings? Feathers? I’d been dosed!

The world was full of psychedelic colors, some of which I couldn't identify. The sidewalk wasn't flat anymore. It was layered and cross-hatched with patterns and shadows that I had walked over a thousand times without ever truly seeing. The witch’s vial rolled lazily, a drop of liquid still in it—its taste bitter on my tongue.

Meaning flooded me. The shiny wrapper fluttering in the wind: sweetness clinging to foil. The neighbor—I already knew her: yelling, sudden hands, jerky steps that cut the air wrong. Her form shrieked like a warning siren.

She seemed to offer me a bag of treats: nasty-yellow; awful-gritty-browns; tasty-soggy-golden-flakes; yummy-meat-hollow bones.

It was #hogwash! Best to stay away. I didn’t decide that. I just knew.

None of it was #redundant: motion-sight, all saturated with meaning.

I was in the air before I knew it: Threat-Motion-Arm! I filled my lungs and let out a warning screech so that everyone would know. “Warning, Bad lady!”

I was free of the earth. “Caw, caw,” I cried. “I’m here!”

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #Crows #Otherkin #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy