Hunt

16:07 Perdita held her mother’s hand, awkwardly through the thick gloves, but tight. The eye-holes above her snout restricted her view, so she relied on her mother to guide her safely. This year she was a werewolf. The cul de sac was infested with all manner of ghouls, grotesques, and ghastlies, all milling this way Read More

Sim ill arse hounds

Another Creative Writing challenge was to produce something where the first line was the same as the last line. Inspired by nonsense poems, I tried to create a series of near-limericks that have the same first and last lines – but also, these repeated lines sound almost identical to the next poem’s first and last Read More