The Bone Witch
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Works in Progress
A list of upcoming works still a.) unfinished; b.) undergoing major revisions, or c.) suffering from acute plotdevelopmentlimboitis. All works still fictional. Especially the parts my mother disapproves of. And the parts that are illegal.
The Bone WitchAnd as we watched, a cold, gray hand rose up, scratching and stretching, and gripped the tufts of weeds growing close to the grave. The strange being lifted itself out of its earthly prison with little difficulty, and brushed the dirt off its tall, thin form. My mother fainted.
When it raised its head I saw that it had my brother’s face, drawn and bloodless and dead.
“Tea,” the figure said.
But then it smiled, and it was Fox’s smile, quiet and kind.
The FirekeeperThe firebird chirped a warning, but the shades paid little heed. So it sighed – a resigned, I-really-did-warn-you-about-this-you-know sigh – and glowed. Its feathers, a variety of yellows and reds and oranges tipped with a subtle silver shimmer, flared. Its majestic tail fanned out like a vestal train, whipping at slow, concentrated intervals. Despite its bravado, it had a wide-eyed curiosity about it suggesting it had not been a firebird for very long and, if the shades had their way, would not be one for much longer.
Pending title: 'Eyes'
You are the house, the eyes tell you. You are the Victorian monstrosity with the windows that hide and the curtains that conceal, and it would be harmless for a look inside.
Draw back the curtains. Let us in.