"Heh heh, your horns are much longer. Now, tell me, satyr, why have you returned?" The question was whispered calmly, so as not to draw attention. The girl's pink legs swayed back and forth, to keep the swing going, beneath a frilly black dress.
"Annabell," the creature addressed her, in a London accent, as it stood at the curb. "You can see things that you should not." She bodes ill for my world. I shall pray that she is no harbinger of what is to come.
Across the empty cement court, the boy stopped the lawn mower abruptly. His mouth hung low, gaping.
"Hee hee," she laughed cheerily, looking over the satyr's shoulder. "I'm not the only one, it seems."
"Annabel, what the heck is that thing in front of you?" the boy shouted.
POST A COMMENT
Wanna say something? Make yourself heard!
We reserve the right to delete spam, flames, or other nasty stuff.










No comments have been posted yet.