I’m going to come straight out and just say it. I’m proud of these!
What’s not to love about beautiful images with a chunk of story to get your creative juices flowing?
It’s that time of year again.
When the faery folk come to dance upon the earth.
So light the way for them beneath the ancient tree.
Dance with the Devil, you handsome darling. If you please me, all your dreams will come true.”
“Are you saying you’re the Devil?”
The sensuous woman smiled and shrugged.
“I never thought of the Devil as a woman. So what dance?”
“Tango. Of course.”
If you remain still, you might get a glimpse of them.
Be careful though.
If they suspect a trap, they will grab you and imprison your soul in the tree for 1000 years
“You can’t be serious!”
“I am. Lie upon the yellow lines and the genie will come to grant you three wishes.”
“I thought genies lived in bottles and oil lamps.”
“Times have changed. Genies are now captive beneath the cement of roads and sidewalks.”
“What if a car runs over me?”
“That’s how the portal opens.”
“You must think I’m an idiot.”
“No. That’s the chance you gotta take. How badly do you want this?“
Isabelle knew she was disappearing into the world of words, but she didn’t care.
Carlos begged her to stay, but she shook her head.
“I’d rather cease to exist physically if I get to enjoy all the pleasures of fantasy, of the erotic and romance.”
“What do you want, Isabelle, from the ethers of imagination? You will cease to be.”
”I know, darling Carlos. But ordinary life is mundane. I can’t bear the mundane.”
Bernado’s heart pounded. This was the portal. it had to be.
But how could he get past that brick wall?
If he didn’t, Celeste was lost forever and their parents would perish from heartbreak.
Fern yearned for the glory of humans. As psychic beings, plants healed, soothed, gave solace, and offered insight.
But there was no power. Plants were at the mercy of humans and animals.
Until the day a sad looking woman came into the forest undergrowth and lay down on top of Fern.
Fern felt her sorrow, and knew its time had come. This woman no longer wanted to be human.
“How about if we trade places?” Fern whispered. “You become me and I become you.”
The woman looked right at Fern.
“Is that possible?”
She was emerging. She could feel herself coming back to flesh, blood, and bone.
After so many centuries held captive in the trees, she would be free at last.
“Why now?” she asked. “Why let me go now when the world is so changed?”
“Because we need you to convince humanity to protect us.”
Ophelia threw herself into the water, but instead of the death she sought in her despair, she found conviction.
She deserved life. Only revenge would do for her father’s death.
Hamlet would suffer.
