Lightning flashed. It lit up an open windowsill. In it, a large walnut shell, with a scrap of fabric askew across it. A bed and blanket for someone no bigger than an old woman’s thumb. The bed was empty. I…
Lightning flashed. It lit up an open windowsill. In it, a large walnut shell, with a scrap of fabric askew across it. A bed and blanket for someone no bigger than an old woman’s thumb. The bed was empty. I…