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Colors of Spring v. 2.0

14 May

A while back I was celebrating the arrival of Spring with a photo project.  I went around town taking photos of the first brave plants to emerge in the sometimes unpredictable Iowa Spring.  These plants kept me from going stir-crazy, and now that most of them are gone (My how time does fly!) I want to pay tribute to them.  The photos I posted in the end of April were those I edited very little, but some of my favorites I got to play around with quite a bit, and here they are!

Spring Colors; the Extreme Edition!


Spring Cleaning

30 Apr

Ask my mother, I’ve never been a particularly organized person.  My idea of cleaning usually involves piles that may or may not be categorized.  Lucky couples balance each other out; one might be a total neat freak, or someone who really enjoys cleaning the bathroom every day, or someone who doesn’t believe in material posessions.  Really lucky people find their match with some type of professional organizer.  I was not so lucky.  I went out and found someone with the same lazy organizational skills and attraction to clutter.

Since we started renting our first actual factual house, we made each other a promise.  We decided it was time to step up and make this home one to be proud of.  And we’ve done a really great job with that so far.  We keep everything clean, tidy, and everything has it’s place, so for the first time in my life I’m organized.  We’ve been here for six months now, so we decided it was time to go through the house and do some reorganizing.  It took us all afternoon on a beautiful day, but I’m happy to be done now, and everything looks great.  But the room I’m happiest about is my art room.

My art room is really a 3 season porch off the back of our carport, so during the winter it was out of commission.  This is also where we enter and exit the house, so it became a sort of catch-all for random stuff that didn’t have a place yet in the house; old knitting supplies, shoes, leaves I had been trying to sketch in the fall, broken pottery waiting to be thrown out, and another partial drum set that was rescued from the side of the road.  With winter officially behind us (I say NO MORE!) I had been meaning to clear the stacks of cast-off drawing attempts from my drafting table for a while so I could have my space back to become the next Picasso, so we tackled the art room first, and I’m so pleased with the results.

Even though my table is currently being occupied by the next generation of melons and squashes, they will soon be out the door and my space will truly be mine again.

All the old mail and half-finished drawings have been thrown out, the drumset is nestled safely in a closet, and the shoes are tucked neatly away.  From here I can look out at my garden and let it inspire me to (I hope) artistic greatness.  My supplies are all where I can find them easily.  Everything has a place, and now so do I.

Photo Project: Colors of Spring

27 Apr

Every so often I like to pretend I’m a photographer.  This spring I noticed I have been looking at newly emerging plants with more than an admiring eye.  I wanted to capture the idea of the colors coming out all around me, and the life that had been keeping me company in our small town.  It was cloudy the day we went out with the camera, but I’ve discovered color correction and had fun playing with in order to achieve my ultimate goal. It was difficult to pick only four, but in the end it came down to my favorite plants as well as my best shots.

These are the colors of spring in Grinnell, Iowa




Dusty Pink


13 Apr

I couldn’t come up with a title.  Sorry.  If you have a good idea, I’d love to hear it, just as I always appreciate your input on the direction of this rambling tale.

Also, if this is your first visit, to avoid confusion, go here, then here, then here. Trust me, this is a series of stories 🙂

Faeries.  It’s come down to faeries. Sabrina thought.  She was sitting at the edge of the ruined patch of love apples watching Leo, who was speaking quietly with the wolf at the edge of the clearing.  It just doesn’t fit! She watched his wide tanned shoulders rise and fall under the thin sheath of leather.  All of the blacksmith’s clan were big and burly like Leo, in fact, compared to his father, he was positively slim.  The faeries in tales were always spindly waifish things with long drooping wings and pale serene faces.  Even the other faeries she had just seen at the edge of the clearing had seemed right, only without the wings.  But Leo, only the ears seemed to fit, everything else about him did not seem faerie-like at all.  But those tales were told to wide-eyed children around campfires during the soft spring nights.  This was real.  Then she remembered the way his face had changed without the green glow of the key enveloping him.  A demonic faerie.  Maybe that was his true form.

She sighed then.  She was in love with a possibly demonic faerie.  George would have a field day with that one.  Another grand joke to add to his repertoire.  She could hear the twins now, first George then Fred would join in.

A FAERIE?  What did he do, S?  Charm you with his pretty little wings?

There’s an idea, George, we can make a faerie love charm!

And they would have, if they’d been there.  Just another drop in their big bag of wizard’s tricks.  Why couldn’t she meet someone normal?  First it had been George, a wizard with an irrepressible sense of humor and devotion to two things only:  His twin and the magic act.  Then came Ben, a sullen, angry young man.  Lucy said he had walked out of the dust into the city with nothing more than the clothes on his back.  He was gentle and kind around them, but Sabrina remembered how they had shuddered after he had sucked all the life out of the beets to bring Merry’s dog back.  And now Leo.

She couldn’t keep herself from smiling though, as she watched him, his head bent in earnest conversation with the wolf.  This was all so much more interesting than spending her afternoons listening to Ike’s poetry.  Instantly she felt badly for thinking this.  Ike had been her only friend through the lonely months.  She had learned so much from their idle wanderings.  She made a silent promise to herself that if she ever made it out of this weird mess she would be nicer to Ike in the future.  Besides, he was the most normal person in her immediate circle.

Just as she had this thought, Leo got to his feet.  He and the wolf strode over to where she sat.  Wordlessly, Leo took her hand and pulled her to her feet.  “After palaver, we have decided to follow the evil Fae into the woods.”

“Are you going to turn evil again?”  She asked, pulling back from him a bit.

Leo shook his head, his blue eyes practically twinkling.  “Not as long as we have the key.”  His long fingers folded over hers once again.  “The power of the Fae is what is making the forest dark.  The light of the key has driven their evil magic away from this place, and thus it will protect us.  What you saw was a glimpse of what their evil spell could have done to me.”

“And the wolf?”  She asked trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.

“Alas, I too was under their spell, as much of these woods are.”  Despite his proud carriage, a trickle of shame crept into his eyes.

As they left the clearing behind, they found the forest once again cloaked in twilight.  Leo had her hand once again, but the wolf seemed not to need physical contact to be protected by the key.  As she had found when they first entered the darkness, time seemed to slow once again.  Sometimes she would catch flashes of light out the corners of her eyes, and hear tinkling laughter, but these things always vanished when she tried to focus on them.

After a while they slept, the stillness of the forest pressing in around them.  The wolf always kept watch.  Time passed in this fashion.  The three spoke little, fearful of what else might be drawn out of the twilight at the sounds of their voices.

One day they awoke to find the wolf gone.  They searched through the trees for some sign of the animal, but found none.  Leo risked a shout, and they heard little other than the echoes of his voice for a long time.  After an agonizing silence, they began to walk, once again hand in hand.  Not a handful of steps later, Leo halted.  Sabrina had figured out that his hearing was significantly better than hers through their strange journey so far.  It was probably a faerie thing.  So she waited patiently.

Leo began drifting carefully in one direction through the trees.  Eventually Sabrina began to hear noises herself, and they were spit out into another clearing.

It was chaos in the clearing.  The grass in the center was shredded, trees around the edges were blown to bits, bark shattered down everywhere.  Crouching near the trees was their wolf, and floating above them were the faeries.  Sabrina recognized the spells flying from their fingertips from her time with Fred and George.  The wolf ducked and dodged.  Three faeries drifted too close to the ground and the wolf pounced, pinning them to the ground.  Leo had detached himself from her and was sending his own blue spells up at the canopy where the the faeries were immobilized, suspended in the air.

Sabrina noticed none of this.  Her feet were moving on their own to a tree that had survived the carnage.  On the tree was another piece of weather beaten stray metal.  On the wide plate were the three symbols from the key and in the center was a keyhole.  Sabrina’s hand drifted in front of her face, holding the key out.  The symbols on the key and keyhole blinked hypnotically.  She wanted to put the key in and see what happened, but it was like her mind was no longer a part of her body.

Through the haze, she heard a voice, small and far away, gradually building in volume.  She blinked once, and her vision cleared.  The noise of the clearing came crashing back into her now open ears. Her head swung back to the scene in the clearing.  The wolf was struggling with the slippery bodies of the faeries.  Leo’s back was to her, but she could see the side of his face, set in hard lines of concentration, and the muscles of his outstretched arms trembled with the effort of holding his spells.

“Put it in, you stupid human!”  The wolf was shouting at her.  “Turn the damn key, girl!”

Without hesitation, she jammed the key home and turned it with a loud click.  A huge metal door-frame materialized in front of her.  With her free hand, Sabrina pushed and the door swung open.  There was a rush of white light and then…

What did Sabrina see behind the door?

A) More evil faeries!

B) The ocean!

C) Her father!

A Wolf In… Wolf’s Clothing

4 Apr

Today’s installment is a long one, but it was hard won.  My creative powers seem to be waning today, so if this seems kind of off, I apologize.  If you are new to my little game, please visit, the post that started it all, and then see the second installment.  And help the saga to continue by leaving a comment about what you think should happen next, of if you’re not into that, just leave a comment!

The scabby fruit Leo had called “Love Apples” were shredded under long black claws.  Ragged ears flying, tongue lolling, the wolf tore across the clearing with startling swiftness.  A harsh bark tore from its throat as it tensed to pounce.  Leo called out in a strange voice and gave her a rough push.

Landing in a heap on the ground, Sabrina nearly let the still warm key spill from her hand.  She thought it was shock at first, veiling her vision when she looked up at Leo and the wolf.  Where she had been standing only a second’s breath before, the wolf was crouched with bared teeth.  Leo had a stout stick in one hand and was speaking calmly in that strange voice.  An invisible wind appeared to be sweeping through the clearing, sending his hair flying around his head and the wolf’s fur rippling.  There was a cold blue aura spilling out from Leo’s bare chest.  As he spoke, the aura grew brighter and enveloped him fully.  The snarling beast snapped at the aura, but did not advance.  There seemed to be lights dancing just outside the clearing, chittering eagerly but to Sabrina it was all like a mirage.

Suddenly Leo dealt the wolf a swift blow.  The still air of the clearing rang with a hollow thud and a thin yelp as the wolf was flipped on its side.  Kneeling next to the prone form with closed eyes, he reached out with unnaturally long fingers.  As he tangled his hands in the thick grey pelt, Leo’s aura crept outward.  An almost human sigh slipped from the wolf’s jaws and its great head rolled to the side and Sabrina watched in awe as its blue eyes closed slowly until it was finally covered in Leo’s magic and sleeping peacefully.

The chittering dancing light in the forest drew closer.  Whatever was behind those lights was angry now.  Leo’s eyes opened slowly, his fingers clenching in the wolf’s fur.  A loud low sound came from deep in his throat.  The clearing filled with a cold flash that washed over Sabrina, stealing the breath from her throat and raising goose-flesh all over her body.  She saw them clearly, hovering just behind the tree line.  Their frail long arms were cast over their faces to protect their eyes from the light.  Dressed curiously in pale grey-green tunics cinched at the waist with what appeared to be belts made of bark, their wild unruly dark hair framed pale faces and covered thin shoulders.  The strange group flitted away, gleaming in the twilit forest, their chittering trailed after them and it sounded like mocking laughter.

With a trembling hand, Sabrina reached out to Leo’s hunched shoulders.  When it had receded, Leo’s icy blue magic had left a giddiness in the pit of her stomach and she found herself once more unable to speak.  Before her hesitant fingers could reach him, Leo turned.  All she could do was gasp breathily at the sight of his face, although she felt a thin scream crawling up her throat.

He had changed.  His cheeks were sallow and sunken, his lips drawn and pale.  His ears seemed too long and pointed, but it was the way he glared over his shoulder that sent her blood running cold.  His eyes, usually wide and a deep warm blue, had narrowed and had darkened to a color without a name.  Those abnormally long fingers dropped from the wolfs coat and he pivoted, the muscles in his shoulders working with a fluidity that was not human.

Behind them the wolf stirred suddenly, and at the same time, the strange key jumped in Sabrina’s hand.  The wolf let out a long high howl and the green light pulsing from the key jumped out into Leo.  Sabrina tried to cover her ears, shield her eyes and scoot backwards all at the same time, but only succeeded in falling over.  When the wolf had quieted and the light faded back, Leo was bent over her.  With relief she saw his eyes had returned to their normal color.  His cheeks were no longer so drawn, but he still looked pale with worry.  Pushing herself up, she noted the wolf was now sitting behind Leo like an obedient dog.  Without meaning to, she reached out and gently touched one of Leo’s still distinctly pointed ears.

“What are you?”  She was finally able to whisper.  “And what was in the woods?”

“I am, and they are, Fay.”  The shadow of a smile touched his eyes.


“They are Fay, faerie people.”  A real smile broke out across Leo’s face as Sabrina goggled at the source of the retort.  The wolf was gazing evenly at her, one paw idly rubbing the back of first one ear and then the other, upon which she noticed a set of blue hoop earrings.  “Did you hear me, silly human?”  The wolf asked in it’s dry humorless voice.

She couldn’t respond.  Instead she walked across the clearing to the broken tomato plants.  Their leaves, though broken were no longer that sickly grey.  They shined a dark rich green.  Sabrina turned one of the fallen fruits over.  Free of scabs and a healthy blushing pink, it was almost perfect but for a single hole where it had been pierced by the wolfs claws.

I feel saintlike, Fred.  I’m holy.  Geddit?  HOLEY?

With her friend George’s wild laughter in her ear, she sat down and cried.

Leo came to her and sat gingerly among the now healthy but destroyed plants.  He took her hand and pried her fingers away from the key.  The green glow had left them and the key.  Now the big top symbol flashed a dull red.

“We have to move on.”  Leo said.

What she said next surprised her, since what she really wanted to do was spit in his eye and run in the other direction.  “What about the forest?  Those faerie things are still out there.”

What would you do?

A. Cut and run

B. Follow the faeries

C. Go on to the big top

Into the Woods

31 Mar

For those of you just coming in, this is second in a series of reader driven fictional posts.  Check out the first installment before reading on.

Sometimes the writing muse can be fickle.  One day it’s here and clear, the next it’s hovering just out of reach.  Today my muses played a trick on me.  Go ahead and think I’m crazy, or paranoid, or superstitious, whatever, but this is what happened on my way to the pool this morning:

I decided to actually count the random metal strips on the road for fun, since I chose seven as the number for my story knowing there were way more.  Seven is a special number.  As with three, nine and thirteen, seven tends to be used quite a bit in fantasy stories I enjoy reading.  Also, seven has been my lucky number since I was a teenager.  I like it.  I also feel an affinity for the number 13.  Side note:  I cross my sevens.  Anyway, as I was walking, I started counting.  I counted seven metal pieces on our road, 12th Avenue.  As I turned onto Park Street, where I first noticed these little scraps, I was idly thinking about how neat it might be if I found 13.  But there were no more.  The rest were gone.  So I’ve spent the rest of the day in a sort of cosmic daze.  It’s too weird to chalk up to mere coincidence.  I guess the next hurdle will be to write Ike into existence somehow, but if I run into a guy with blue hair at the pool tomorrow I might just die prematurely.

Anyway, here is the fruit of my tricksy muses today.  Enjoy, as before, try to find my reference and please don’t forget to comment!

You know the old woods? Merry whispered in her head.  Folks used to say there was something in the water that made the trees grow tall.  Talk to each other.  Even move. He used to say this so he could watch Brooke, another of the Lucky Seven, squirm.  That’s how they would flirt.  It gave Brooke an excuse to snuggle close to him, or give him a playful swat on the shoulder.  But Sabrina was hearing Merry’s voice from hundreds, thousands of miles away.  She would have been rooted to the spot if Leo hadn’t been pulling her gently along.  They were at the very edge of Fanghorn Forest.  They had waded through the scraggly wildflowers where Ike often showed his softer side by singing and chanting poetry.  But now that her attention was fully on the forest, she wondered if Ike had done that for her at all.  It seemed like a good distraction from the shadowy feeling that was wafting off of the trees.

“Hold on to me, okay?”  Leo said over his shoulder.  These were the first words spoken between them since he had appeared and taken her and the mysterious key North.

She had opened her mouth to say something about how she needed to find her father and slap a cup of coffee into his mitts, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore.  Her silence this time had nothing to do with that swirly feeling she usually got in the pit of her stomach or the way her eyes would go fuzzy around the edges whenever she happened to see Leo around the shanty-town.

There was a faint memory from the first time she and her father had passed through the wood.  They were pursued most of the way across the vast desert by a posse with laser cannons, and had stumbled into the forest almost by mistake.  Once they entered, a quiet had wrapped around them.  It calmed their horses instantly and the scent of rotting leaves caused their eyelids to droop.  After a lot of coaxing, the horses were persuaded to shamble farther into the dense undergrowth.  Sabrina and Horst had collapsed on their saddle blankets as soon as the close growing trees blocked out all the sounds of the desert.  As Sabrina nodded off into an exhausted sleep, she saw a face above her.  It was gnarled and Spanish moss dribbled from where the chin should have been.  After an instant, the face was gone and Sabrina dismissed it as a latent reaction to Merry’s wild stories coupled with physical stress.

Grasping Leo’s rough hand with both of hers now, she felt the key warm almost alive digging into her palm.  They passed through the shadow of the trees and into something thicker.  Once inside the forest Leo paused as if her were unsure.  There was a faint rasping sound as he sent his tongue out over dry lips.  The shadow was unlike anything they had ever seen before.  It was heavy and there was a yellow-orange haze to it.  Glancing over at Leo, Sabrina gasped.  There was green light dancing around him.  The light engulfed his body and spilled down his arm to her hand.  Letting out another breathy gasp she watched as the light marched over her closed hands and up her arm.  Leo stepped close and gently moved one of her hands aside, his eyes piercing into her.  He cupped her palm and she opened her fingers.  There the key lay blazing a bright new grass green.  Folding their hands over the key once more, the pair moved slowly on.  The forest shone brightly as they moved through it, but once they left a spot, the yellow-orange twilight hurried in once more.

Something about moving through the eerie strangely colored darkness made it impossible to tell how long they had been walking.  They were like sleepwalkers; slowly stretching in an uncertain direction.  The scenery never changed.  It was only trees and moss and brambles.  It could have been minutes, hours, days later when they reached a clearing.  The twilight was weaker there, and in the middle there was a tangle of grey-green plants.  The plants sprawled everywhere, climbing over one another, and they were laden with ripe fruit.

“Are those…”

“It’s love apples.”

Sabrina looked at her companion.  She hadn’t been bothered by his sudden appearance and the subsequent side-tracking he was responsible for, nor was it an issue that he had taken her into a dangerous forest with no explanation of where they were going, but she was cross with him now for interrupting her.

“We called them tomatoes.  But they’re wrong…” She tried to step forward for a closer look at the lumpy scabby fruit, but found her arm firmly anchored behind her.

Leo’s eyes, now pale and wide with fear fixed on the opposite side of the clearing.  He clenched her hand like a drowning man, his shallow breathing making harsh puffing sounds in the quiet.  In an awkward half crouch, Sabrina turned slowly.

Hulking at the opposite side of the clearing just beyond the trees was a beast.

What was the beast?

A) A spooky spider

B) A huge grey wolf with earrings

C) A tree person

Choose Your Own Adventure Blog!

30 Mar

This is the inspiration behind today’s post.  It doesn’t look like much, but I see them every day on my walk to the pool and always wonder what they are.  So I let my imagination take over, and here is the result.  I have transplanted and adapted both characters and elements from my own writing and writing and film of others.  See if you can find them all!  Note:  This one requires your participation, so don’t be shy!

Weak light filtered in from the thin high window onto Sabrina’s fluttering eyelids.  She closed her eyes firmly against the light, clinging to the last restful scraps of sleep she would get that day.  Wishing desperately to remain wrapped in her own sleeping warmth, a glance at the empty bed across the room told her what she had to do instead.  Her thin sandals crunched on the gravel outside the makeshift shack she called home.  The thin blanket she wore draped over one shoulder and crossing her chest was not nearly enough to keep out the early morning chill.  But the sun shone brightly, and she started on her trek.

Pointing East, into the rising sun she was searching for her father.  Since they had come to this part of the Midworld, Horst had begun a rather illicit and practically unheard of affair with a man named Felix.  This relationship, however, had more to do with their mutual love for Lady Liquor than for one another.  Most days she would walk two miles outside of their small shanty town to a tavern of types that serviced thirsty laborers for miles around.  There she would find Horst and Felix in the fallout from an evening spent drinking a fermented root mash that was called Mother’s Milk, but in the thick mushy local accent always sounded to her like “Mudder’s Milk”.

How had they come to this?  Sabrina could hardly remember life before they had fled the crumbling walls of a city under siege.  She knew she and her father hadn’t always lived in a shack made of logs, that she hadn’t always had to dress in this ridiculous blanket toga, that her only pair of shoes hadn’t always been these flimsy sandals, and particularly that she hadn’t had to walk for miles every day searching for her father.

The sun began to warm her long dark hair and her thoughts turned dreamy about what the day might become.  Perhaps she would go to the hot springs later and bathe naked, surrounded by a new crop of sugar beets.  Or maybe she would be able to coax Ike to lay down his super sized broadsword for the afternoon.  They would walk in the stringy wildflowers on the edge of the woods and she would wonder at his strange blue spiky hair while he slowly spun out more of that poem he had started to tell her last night.  The one that began “Childe Roland to the dark tower came…”

She was startled out of her thoughts by a faint ping! as her foot came into contact with something that was not a pebble.  It was a tiny rusty strip of metal.  Coming to a halt, she knelt down to examine this rare find.  Here metal did not lie about wantonly.  Scooping it up idly she continued on, only to come across another piece identical to the first.  She studied the two side by side.  They were no more than a quarter of an inch wide, and perhaps a hands-length long.  She decided she would collect them if more popped up and bring them to the blacksmith’s when she returned to town.  This gave her an excuse to hang around and maybe catch a glimpse of the blacksmith’s oldest son, Leo.  She always went silly and dreamy around Leo with his long red hair and wild blue eyes.

The rest of her walk she kept her head bent, eyes searching the ground for more of the mystery scraps.  When she had collected four, she noticed a buzzing in her palm.  The tiny fragments were humming softly and trembling.  Things like this seemed to always be happening in Midworld, so she closed her palm, taking more notice of a bald man in old round glasses sleeping in his carriage.  Straightening with six humming metal sticks clutched in one hand and a seventh between her opposite thumb and forefinger, a painful memory suddenly darkened the bright morning.

Lucky seven!  The Loser’s Club! Her friend Lucy’s voice drifted across a memory of a vast wind scorched field.  There were beets there too. Sabrina remembered.  But they were dead.  They were dead because Ben made lucky seven, and we were the Loser’s Club. Her heart ached for her friends, left long behind after they had fled across a desert and a strange forest called Fanghorn.  Ben had killed the beets so that Merry’s old deerhound could survive a scorpion bite.  Then there had been nothing in that field but seven friends and an old dog.  Since they had come through the eerie forest which had seemed almost alive, something had changed in her.  The only person in town who seemed brave enough to be her friend was Ike with his Claymore and loud battle cry.  Everyone else skirted her nervously.  Ike said it was because since Sabrina and Horst had come through, the forest had become enveloped in a weird yellowy twilight.  Children were forbidden to enter, and the only thing that came out were tall tales of giant spiders and old horseless carriages.

As soon as the seventh scrap of metal touched the others in her now sweaty palm, the humming became a loud long musical note.  Glancing down, she watched with wide eyes as the metal started to twist and turn in her hand while emitting a warm green light.

A blink and it was over.  Instead of a pile of odd old metal, a long key lay across her fingers.  The key flashed a brilliant polished copper, and on it were three faintly glowing symbols.  She had seen these symbols used in the local’s version of written language.  The one nearest the key’s teeth was a green swirl slightly wider at the base than at the top.  This was the symbol of Fanghorn Forest to the North.  at the top of the key lay two wavy lines of blue.  This was a long beach rumored to be endless that lay to the South.  And in the middle was a tee-pee of red and gold.  This could only be the Bigtop, where she and Ike sometimes snuck in underneath the thick canvas to feed wild thistle to Rosie the elephant.

She was about to slip the key into the folds of her blanket when a stick cracked behind her, making her jump around.  Her breath caught in her throat when her eyes lit in Leo.  He was striding right towards her, his hair crazy and flowing behind him.  His face was seemed serious at first, but as he approached Sabrina could see a small smile curling one corner of his thin lips.  She couldn’t speak, and her heart skipped a beat when he marched up to her.  He was wearing a pair of wide-legged burgundy linen pants and nothing on top but the leather vest he often wore when working the bellows at his father’s shop.  His skin was warm and dry as his fingers slid over hers, covering the key.  The smile reached his dark blue eyes for an instant.  Sabrina thought she might fall into those eyes and die happy.  As he spoke, however, his face changed so suddenly it was like there had never been a smile there at all.

“Come with me.”

Now it’s your turn, dear reader.  Where are they going to go?

A: The Forest

B: The Beach

C: The Bigtop

Cast your vote and come back tomorrow to read more about Sabrina!