Author: Keri

A bounty hunter ambushes Weaver with one hell of a cold shoulder. Fully prepared for the equivalent of a fire elemental, Weaver can’t catch a hot second.1,303 words.

There’s a backwards solar eclipse, a cat in the mailbox, and a wand warning of danger. Just another day In Between. Wait. Mom? Mom. Shit.632 words.

Weaver argues with someone determined to force her to change her worldview. Cherry picking evidence never goes well.466 words.

Another scene from the masquerade. Before insulting the help, make sure the master does not hear.263 words.

A dream narrated from the second-person, where the dreamer is a side character in the story. “You attend a masquerade.”517 words.

Weaver gets caught up in a march for the rights of indigenous peoples. But she sees the same lopsided power structure as those they protest against. Thieves steal the trivial as their freedom is stolen from them, and her misanthropy is justified yet again.534 words.

Keri’s (doted on but unused) wood wand bears an uncanny resemblance to bone. Her tormenter companion takes that comparison and runs off with it much to Weaver’s annoyance.517 words.