by JM Prescott
High in a tower, a beauty slept in the shadows of closed curtains under a blanket of magic that leaked from every pore like a sieve of light and music: she was empty in the dark. No one kissed her; but she woke up. She tore the curtains from the wall, ignored her reflection in the glass and forced open the window; the sounds of summer rushed into the room and filled her with new magic – a magic she could taste. Outside her tower, sleepy people spent their day like loose change; no one looked up. In a moment of sudden belief and joy, she threw herself out of the tower into the summer wind. No one turned her into a bird; but she flew on wings she made herself.
JM Prescott is distracted by shiny objects and believes that the best stories happen after bedtime. She lives in Ontario with her husband and cat (who's also distracted by shiny objects). She is co-editor of The Glass Coin, and blogs here.