Fantasy Author
I wish I could say America didn’t change me, but it did; it changed me in a hundred little ways, day after day, asking me to surrender tiny piece after tiny piece. I was unprepared for the false and flippant friendships, and unprepared for the way people use and abandon each other. I began a... Continue Reading →
In Wales, they say you should water gardens with blood if you want to see a truly spectacular garden. That's why all the famous faery gardens are so full of abundance - the Island of Shalott, and the Isle of Avalon, where willow and apple trees grow in profusion. Whether the faery gardens are real... Continue Reading →
It was smaller than I imagined. In my mind, I had conceived it as this enormous barrier, unyielding and reaching for the sky. But it was not like that at all. It was not some last proud warrior of its people, standing in defiance against the centuries and the wars waged before it. It was... Continue Reading →
It happens this way, sometimes. A cold afternoon; an ominous evening wind. The door to the apartment swept open without hurry, and I turned. There was no one there. I checked the locks, then closed it. A few minutes passed. The twice-locked door crept open once more, soundlessly beckoning. My curiosity stirred. I turned to... Continue Reading →
And of all the stupid things, I start to think: Would it be so bad? Couldn't I see myself spending a lifetime here? With the sun on my skin and sand on my arms from summer days spent in the water, on the beach? And what if it was easy? What if we never cared... Continue Reading →
One day there was no fight left in me. I wasn’t sure what happened to it. Did it drop out of me, or did it simply disappear? Did something release, or let it go; or did it not exist anymore? Had it ever existed? Wherever it had come from, one day it was just gone.... Continue Reading →
I heard the full moon sing last night; songs of ancient paths, songs of distant dreams; and the wild spirit that remains in my heart unfolded to hear it. Like a ghost you came, and whispered: Play once more with me. Play another game. How did Wendy answer Peter, that last time? "Peter, you old... Continue Reading →
I want to write something beautiful. Something that speaks to yearning; something that speaks to the yawning cavern, aching to be filled. I want to speak of the darkness of that cavern; of the infinite chamber that hangs silence like a curtain, waiting for the voice strong enough to pierce it – this veil that... Continue Reading →
To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go. Mary Oliver Lucy came into my life during a dark... Continue Reading →
Shelley J. Reece 