How did that poem go? The one about cocoa and mice...and maybe little children?

She was certain she'd known it once, maybe long ago. Or perhaps tomorrow. The knowledge was somewhere in there no doubt. It had started with the silence she believed.

Not a creature was stirring...How very true. One could hear the crystalline ringing of proud little ( Read more... )

The room was squalid in the kindest of terms, darkness in ever corner and a smell that would make a dog choke. Appaling and hazardous also came to mind. But Wish didn't car about that, never truly had. This was no social worker come to glare and point at the old food rotting in the kitchen, nor to gasp at the near sentient levels of the bathroom. ( Read more... )

Wish drifted. Drifted quietly, silently. A ghost among the tattered silk remains, a haunt through the darkened corridoors.

Here I was a power

Here, where they had gathered and fed life, power, desire. Their hopes, their dreams. A full cup and plate, ever brimming. A feast of colors and sounds and hearts, a glut of need.

Here I was a powerWhere ( Read more... )

RequiemI have been granting the wishes of mortals for tme out of mind. A ceaseless cycle...and yet, everytime a true noble spirit manages to wish I can't help but admire them. Somehow Mark, dear Mark was able to attain that nobility. To give his life for another ( Read more... )

The second granting.

Now, Piett was an amusing character. It's strange howu often such as he feel that they woudl be less...confined...by a shift in body. It is not my place to say otherwise, but most often it simply means a new body for a tightlaced spirit ( Read more... )

To Jean Grey, a daughterI can honestly admit that this woman fascinated me...so much strength and ability and yet still, she managed to want what was not hers by right. I should know by now that no limit of ability or position prevents wants and needs, much less the far more petty desires! But still, that she would be among the first to accept my ( Read more... )

The First Granting