The Next Full Moon
“The banging seeped into her sleep. Over and over and over.
“Ava!!”
She bolted awake.
Sun streamed into the room. She looked at the clock. It was 8 a.m.
“Ava, you’re going to be late for school!”
Her head ached. She felt as if she could sleep for hours more.
“Avaaaaaa!”
“Yes, I’m coming,” she grumbled. “I’m getting up.”
“Since when did you start locking your door? And leaving the gourmet dinners I leave for you in the microwave to rot?”
Since I started growing feathers, she thought, automaticall...y reaching up to feel her upper arms. To her surprise, her arms were smooth. Perfect. Smoother than they’d ever been before.
And then she remembered the clearing and the swans, the beautiful woman, Helen, who'd shown up at the door, who'd taken her flying over the forest . . .
And the spaghetti bolognese. Had she really forgotten to eat her father’s famous spaghetti?
Either it was all true, or she’d had one very, very strange dream while, apparently, letting her father’s spaghetti rot.MoreLess
“Ava!!”
She bolted awake.
Sun streamed into the room. She looked at the clock. It was 8 a.m.
“Ava, you’re going to be late for school!”
Her head ached. She felt as if she could sleep for hours more.
“Avaaaaaa!”
“Yes, I’m coming,” she grumbled. “I’m getting up.”
“Since when did you start locking your door? And leaving the gourmet dinners I leave for you in the microwave to rot?”
Since I started growing feathers, she thought, automaticall...y reaching up to feel her upper arms. To her surprise, her arms were smooth. Perfect. Smoother than they’d ever been before.
And then she remembered the clearing and the swans, the beautiful woman, Helen, who'd shown up at the door, who'd taken her flying over the forest . . .
And the spaghetti bolognese. Had she really forgotten to eat her father’s famous spaghetti?
Either it was all true, or she’d had one very, very strange dream while, apparently, letting her father’s spaghetti rot.MoreLess
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