Mariella Hunt

The city was struck by a plague. The old man spoke these words in such a matter-of-fact tone, and little Abigail accepted them without so much as a question. They made no sense to the ghost listening in, though. Evelyn couldn’t remember a plague. “You probably visited the hospital they…

It was that time of the night when insect voices rose in chorus over branches in the breeze. Some said the sighs of a miserable woman could be heard, always a little heavier than the wind. Few came to this part of the forest—only those with hearts of steel dared…

The traveler returned on his own a day later, his nephew nowhere to be seen. He closed the distance between them, watching her with bored acceptance. “Fine, then,” he said. “We made a deal. Where’s the looking-glass?” The faery didn’t reply immediately, puzzled. She’d grown accustomed to superstitious villagers seeking…

Prose was inspired by this photo on Pinterest! “Fancy a glimpse into truth?” the faery asked. She smirked mischievously, holding a looking-glass to the face of a weary traveler. He’d wandered onto her favorite dirt road on the way out of the city. He crossed his arms, watching her with…

There was a long line of frustrated people outside of the movie theater. Rain thumped on colorful umbrellas, for those who cared to pack them. A few had come without umbrellas and were forced to wait in the rain. The weather was so unpredictable nowadays that it was hard to…