Into thin air.

©2022 Michael Raven

The Lady of Shadows holds in one hand a spear half as tall as she, and her shoulders are covered in jet feathers, opalescent and oily in the light of the mood, as if light is afraid to touch her mantle.

Her voice is like black velvet or dark chocolate. “The question is… are you here to die? Or are you here to fly?”

“This is one of those times where thinking hard before you speak might be worthwhile,” points out Raven.

“Shut up, carrion,” the Lady of Shadows says.

Continue reading “Into thin air.”