henrietta
Nobleone day I asked her over a cup of african tea (which tasted peculiarly like winter blood and iced mango), “henrietta?”
she replied with a nod, and her blue hair flipped over the place where her eyes should have been. “yes?” she’d hissed back, moving the hair with a taloned claw.
“i have a feeling –” i’d replied, deliberating as i tapped my finger against my jean clad thigh, “that maybe – you’re a bat,”
she’d tutted again, moving her thick rimmed glasses up her snout. tisking under his breath as she scratched at her long stretched wing. it had the strangest appearance of stretched leather over a clothes horse.
“my dear boy, do you really think if i were a bat, i would fit into these heels?” her s’s were pronounced with a slight but distinct purring lisp as her foggy glasses tilted towards the ruby red slippers at the end of her wooden legs.
i’d just shook my head nervously at her as i rose from my mushroom stool. i’d tipped my hat to her and began trotting towards the front door, stumbling as i threw myself over the hedge separating myself from the exit.
a bat, i’d mused myself on the journey home, my lips curling into a laugh before it ricocheted back off the stone walls of the cave, slapping me across the cheek. of course she wasn’t a bat.
I'm running a competition to find an artist for my original fantasy novel The Knights of Eirelaian, which I'm posting on my DA profile
[link]
Thanks
Andie
--
Catch my 40,000 pageview and win a feature. (:
(:
--
i've got those rolled back eyes, but nothing's clouding my vision.
Previous Page12345...Next Page