With half an ear on the breathless lecturer- ‘for enchantment protection… the lark uses grass… but the crow… uses withy’- Gawain rushed out to the Eagles.
Glancing down on the moving dots, he held on tight as clouds enveloped him.
Looking up Hedith, whispered, ‘the fool.’ Her plan was working.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.
This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.