MissMeliss: Escribition

The brooch had been in our family forever, handed down from mother to daughter on the eve of her eighteenth birthday. At first glance, the color made it look like a cameo, but in reality the image was not a single profile, but three sisters: arms linked, skirts a-twirl, hearts free from any burdens.

From her bedroom in the tower, in the castle, on the cliff, the glassy sea seemed motionless; a shining slab of indigo ice beneath the brittle crescent moon.
Many an evening was spent communing with the waves, while she sat in the cool, damp sand, and let the starfish murmur sweet nothings to her tender [...]