Member-only story
The Authentic Eclectic
Tigress of the Shrubland (3)
How did I never notice the faint heartbeat sounding in the tunnel that seemed part intestine, part cotton, part womb?
Or that aches and pains faded while gliding through the murky pool? Even when the spider wrapped its thread about my wrist, for the first time, I sensed the air bubble surrounding her face.
I did not tumble out into the courtyard. Janice had begun her note with sunflowers, and I aimed to arrive at her familiar field of them. But, to my dismay, the place was entirely new.
It took me a moment to regain my composure, for being tossed onto the ground by a magical spider had lost much of its charm in old age. As I pushed myself to a sitting position, rubbing my elbow, I heard a high-pitched voice that dipped into gravelly growls.
