The winters were always the hardest, as the nights were way too long to be able to bear. She would move to sunnier regions, but she could never find the money for it. Besides, this was home, had always been her home. She wasn't sure she could give that up for anything, not even for the sun.
So as the snow floated downwards and the sun finally peeked from behind a cloud, she emerged from her cottage, face tilted towards the light.
She loved the way it made her magic burn underneath her skin, aching to come out. Letting it free just the tiniest bit, the snow around her started to melt.
YOU ARE READING
Tiny Stories Part 2
Short StoryMy second collection of microfiction, sometimes dealing with the mundane, but mostly dealing with the magical. Unlike the first collection, the stories in this one are based on inktober prompts.
