Margaret Rogerson

Carmen Torres García

Laura Naranjo Gutiérrez

Un encantamiento de cuervos

Ashley vatafu

Minnie Mazuera

“Walking along a blade’s edge was only fun until the blade stopped being a metaphor.”

Elena M.

My mind and hand become possessed. I paint not because I want to, not because I’m good at it, but because it is what I must do, what I live and breathe, what I was made for.

Then it happens to you, and you understand you aren’t any different from those girls after all. Oh, they still seem just as absurd—you’ve simply joined them, in quite a humbling way.

– Da. Şi... nu. Isobel, te iubesc întru totul. Te iubesc veșnic. Te iubesc atât de mult, încât mă înspăimântă. Mă tem că nu as putea trăi fără tine. Ti-aş putea vedea chipul în fiecare dimineață când mă trezesc, timp de zece mii de ani, și încă aş astepta-o cu nerăbdare pe următoarea, ca și cum ar fi prima.

He patted at his sword belt and checked his sword. No, he hadn’t forgotten his sword after all. There it was! Beaming, he adjusted the lay of the sheath against his leg. God, he was a terrible actor—what did I expect from someone who couldn’t lie?

Then it happens to you, and you understand you aren't any different from those girls after all. Oh, they still seem just as absurd— you've simply joined them, in quite a humbling way. But isn't absurdity part of being human?

"Something about you changed every day. Isobel, you're very beautiful."

I think this might have been the main reason I found Rook even the slightest bit attractive.

Fascinated, I studied him. He met my eyes. I gave his hair a second, experimental tug. He let his head fall a little to the side, in the direction of my hand. Somehow I knew what that meant: he'd give me complete control if I wanted it.

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