By Jeff Currier
When Althea first set her magic free, it almost scalded the pastor’s hand. She wouldn’t allow him touching her there.
The next time, healing a sparrow’s wing, she thought herself alone. Her brother told everyone.
When they came for her, Althea’s hands danced, enrapturing the wind. They cut them off. Althea sang, her magic seeking compassion’s light. They cut out her tongue.
“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” they murmured. They threw Althea, tied to a grindstone, into the lake.
Their mistake. Her tears infused the water. Any who drank withered.
Except those willing to set their magic free.
What an imaginative story. You had me at the first sentence,
such a great opening!
Thanks! Glad you liked it.
Hello Jeff,
Masterful storytelling. The third paragraph gave me goosebumps with its perfection ? and the ending gave hope to those who believe in the power of magic.
Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it to the point of goosebumps.
Well-crafted. The tension builds with each sentence until the magical end. All in 101 words.
Thanks!
Love this. So creative.
Glad you liked it!
Powerful prose left me wanting more. I hope there is a longer version of this glimpse of a story
Not yet.
I loved how the first and last sentences created a nice symmetry. I like the little clues you give without overwhelming us. Each sentence adds up to a nice little story.
Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it.