Thursday, October 1, 2020

The Aged Faun



    Night was coming on fast by the time I reached the mountain crest. The gentle winds carried the scent of decay and the swaying vegetation, what little there was, was stunted and dry. The old faun was near the mouth of a cave, resting in the growing shadows. I tipped my hat. "Nice place."

A Winter Flower

She awoke from her rice paper thin sleep and fumbled for her spectacles, then carefully rose and made her way to the mirror. She stared, sig...