The lopsided asymmetry of the shanty-house slouches oceanwards...
Day 12: Magpie Ship
She was slim like a leaf and painted in a dark stain, highlighted by white-grained wood underneath. The lateen sails were cleanly secured, and her prow dipped gently over each pull of the tide.
Day 11: Embers
A young man crouched over the embers, stirring them with a stick. His black curls were pulled back in wet strands and a raven skull leered on the shoulder of his tatty greatcoat, spewing its own feathers.
Stones Grow Her Name
Every now and again I'm just going to need to share album covers. I had to gush about Sonata Arctica's "The Ninth Hour" last time, but now I have to gush about Sonata Arctica's "Stones Grow Her Name." I mean, look at it.
Tada! He's my new author logo. He'll sit quietly under my Ko-Fi button except for on very special occasions; I don't think he's very interested in us. I hope you like him.