Monday, 30 April 2012

Terror Scribes Teaser 23: Adam Lowe

She fell from the sky like a star, burning a hole in the forest, which plumed silver towers of smoke like great feelers among the clouds. It was these slow-writhing arms of smoke which drew the trogs to where she slumbered. They were short and thick like the ginger roots they dug up and ate, pale and grey like the worming things in their underground caverns, and hard as the flint they fashioned into tools and weapons. So when they found her, soft and light, encased in a casket of glass and crystal, her hair feathery as something from the sky should be, they were immediately enchanted. They martialled offerings of daffodils like golden blunderbusses, and garlanded her cairn. They raised her on a bier of birchwood and brought offerings from the forest: wild roses, crab apples, fresh meat, honey.

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