Not for Girls

Fridays at the cyber-home of the Hedgewitch are unruly. All right, so that is a bit of a lie. In truth, they are filled with poetry and prose (55 words) ruled by none but the wild muses and wilder wants of the writers birthing them. Since my muse and I adore freedom-kissed tales with words in them, we wrote one.
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“Not for Girls”

“The eyeballs are the windows to the brain,” she said.

Science and conviction weren’t made for girls, I thought. “You’re wrong, dearie, they are the windows to the soul.”

She shrugged. “I went through the eyes, touched the back of his skull, ran into plenty of yuck and bits of brain, sir, but no soul.”

.

Be Terribly Good in My Story, or fall

He’s witty, attractive, energetic, and just the right amount of insane. When we first met, somewhere between “Becoming Sweettooth” and “The Darker Fringes”, I was certain that my story couldn’t happen without him.

Alas (don’t you just love saying “alas” aloud and then sighing?). Anyhoo, I was wrong…

…still, letting him go pains me deeply.

He is quite the wonder at the (not always appreciated) art of torturing others while grinning sweetly. But not terribly useful in the tale that birthed him. And goodness knows that no story can survive the effects of a useless character (regardless of how gifted said character might be at making others scream in ear-catching ways).

I am going to put him (and his, um… tools) in a virtual box. Nicely locked. Mayhap, one day, I’ll think up a dark, bloody (and properly maniacal) love story just for him.


see the complete blackout here