Beautiful
Title: Beautiful
Word Count: 100
Points to: The Witches, if I may.
At nineteen, Esme is beautiful like an early January morning. Bright and hard and sparkling, black ice that cracks in brittle glasslike shards when you try to put your foot down, splitting with a sound that sets your nerves on edge for the rest of the day. A brief sunrise that torches the whole eastern sky, and yesterday afternoon's assorted rusty garden tools lurking just under the glittering snow. You'd have to be a born lunatic to brave it.
(But Mustrum Ridcully is a twenty-one-year-old apprentice wizard, and 'born lunatic' isn't in the job description so much as is it.)
Word Count: 100
Points to: The Witches, if I may.
At nineteen, Esme is beautiful like an early January morning. Bright and hard and sparkling, black ice that cracks in brittle glasslike shards when you try to put your foot down, splitting with a sound that sets your nerves on edge for the rest of the day. A brief sunrise that torches the whole eastern sky, and yesterday afternoon's assorted rusty garden tools lurking just under the glittering snow. You'd have to be a born lunatic to brave it.
(But Mustrum Ridcully is a twenty-one-year-old apprentice wizard, and 'born lunatic' isn't in the job description so much as is it.)