Nemaiza

I plunder crab apples from the wayside. They are small and round, each one fitting neatly into the palm of my hand. I hold them up to the...

Hickory runs a teashop on the dark side of town, but there is nothing dark about it...

Dawn breaks with its usual chorus of birdsong, but today it is accompanied by the pitiful weeping of a mother...

Marie’s garden grew roses through the winter that died in the spring. What spent most of the year as a barren flower bed...

Today, I am someone else’s child. Someone else’s charge. Miss Elizabeth had me yesterday, though the time I spent in her company was...

Most of the time, there was no house across the lake. The waters shallowed and gave way to a low bank, and beyond that...

Bruja’s Chandlery shares a back alley with a florist, and at the same time sits in the shade of a large willow in the heart of the wood...

Almost a hundred moons had crossed the sky since Hawthorn’s last descent from the mountains into the rolling foothills below...

This story was inspired by the artwork of Milena Mitkova. Check out her Etsy shop and Instagram to see more of her gorgeous art! “It will...

Hi! This is a continuation of my previous story, Mother. You might want to read that before you go any further! Night arrives in the...

A witch you will not recognise lives north of the river on the dark side of town. The side where people go to be changed, stolen, or...

Miss Elizabeth was a witch prone to misplacement. She would lose track of the usual things; her broom whenever she really needed it...

She stumbles over a root buried in the snow. The permafrost beneath the soft powder is hard and uneven underfoot...

Tonight, I lie beside my mother and listen to her imitate the slow breaths of one who is fast asleep. She knows I am not fooled...