It was winter under A certain little star: A first day fable? A snow white fable. Pear tree. Prayer. A snow fairy January. The waking orchard: The waking horse. *…
I was a good girl. All fluff, and soft, and full of too many ways. Such a good girl that they locked me up, and threw away the keycard, erased…
The woodcutter is at a loss. Gretel, not quite fifteen, is cavorting with lycanthropic girls, stumbling home in the dim hours of morning, reeking of urine and musk, tufts of…
For the first five years I wouldn’t plant poppies, afraid of what witch might murmur over the crystal ball of my life, afraid of sleeping forever waiting for snow. But…
Mine are the unseen hands that fetch your morning chocolate. The porcelain cup floats your way, steam riding in its wake like a hopeful ghost, and voila, delicately alights upon…
I always felt left out, my sisters and brothers treating me like I was an embarrassment. They called me “the unseen,” I was lonely, I admit it. Poseidon and Zeus…
You could see them in the morning, their tents pitched on opposite sides of the open grassy avenue that led up the hill from the parking lot to the sutlers’…
We sat in her blue Jetta smoking our favorite cigarettes and talking about our least favorite things. Her very least was me. I knew the obvious answer was her but…
The two children loved each other so much that they always held hands whenever they went out, and when Snow White said, “Let us never leave each other,” Rose Red…
“But, on the other hand, there were the leaves. Mrs. Darling examined them very carefully; they were skeleton leaves, but she was sure they did not come from any tree…
Gingerbread House Lit Mag 