A peice of fiction about the women who manned the Anti-Aircraft weapons during WW2. It was late into the night but Gwen was still awake, listening to the thuds of the rain on the tin roof of the dormitory. Staring
It’s been a little while since I wrote some fiction and any Kara and Etta stuff. So here is a little bit to get me going. “Do all beaches look like this?” They’d been travelling for a while now, through
Written for the Lost & Found: Valentine’s Edition blog hop. Kara doesn’t think it’s love. Not at first, not for a long time. She knows love. Knows how it feels – she’s sure of it. This doesn’t feel like that.
The city burned easier than anyone expected. One the farm on the very edge of the outskirts, Andrew climbed out of the skylight in his room, clambering up the tiles to sit next to the chimney, feeling the lingering warmth
“Wings?” Etta nodded, grinning at her from her seat on the floor. She flipped open the book resting in her lap, settling her crossed legs closer to her body. Kara grumbled something and sat down opposite her, pushing aside one
Kara had dreamt of the little girl before. Always running away, running away from her, hair as dark as her own, skin as pale. She often wondered if she was just dreaming of herself. The hair was certainly the same,
Etta sank down into the white fluff, crushing it beneath her feet. She pulled her other foot up almost throwing it forward back into the snow, sinking and crushing again and repeated the process over and over as the small
“Are you sure about this?” Kara whispered, ducking down behind a shelf as another guard walked by. Etta looked over at her from her seat on the stone floor shivering a little in the harsh breeze. Looking back on this