Miranda Kate's Blog, page 5
January 3, 2024
Review: YellowFace by R F Kuang

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I have read this for my up coming bookclub meeting, and have to say I was gripped and read it super fast for me! It helps that I'm a writer who used to live on Twitter, so this crosses both worlds I 'live'lived' in, but this book made me beyond grateful that I'm a self-published author.
It covers the idea of plagerism. The book is written in first person point of view, by the person that stole a book - from a friend, who they witnessed the death of. It's full of morale ambiguity, as it also shows the dirty underbelly of true trolling within the publishing industry as well as by bystanders and also uses the whole 'culture appropriation by white people' narrative too.
It's a boiling hotch-potch of all these topics, and shows how someone can be torn down so easily by those that are jealous of another's success - and yet the person torn down was also jealous of another's success - like the snake eating its own tail.
It also shows the dark underbelly of publishing and the 'next best thing' and how authors have to write to market if they want to make any money. Money is very much alluded to in this book but numbers are never given, which I think is always a shame. Publishing is really about making money off another person's back. An elite set of people in large publishing houses gets to decide who will be successful and rich and who won't. I found it fascinating, but also wondered how much was exaggerated and how much was true.
I'm interested how the other readers in my bookclub found this book being as none of them are writers and never use twitter. I wonder if it might have gone above their heads.
I enjoyed it, others might not. But it's fast paced and well written.
View all my reviews
Review: Nation, by Terry Pratchett

My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I love Terry Pratchett. I have all his books and read the majority of them - and not just discworld - but I struggled with this book. I found it hard to get into and very slow. It was interesting but felt like a pirate book really.
I wonder at the time of reading it compared to the when it was written. The concept of end of the world from tidal waves and the remaining populous reforming with various cultural differences and how that might look has altered since its time of publication in 2008. The world has taken on a very dystopian feel since 2015, what with climate changes, earthquakes and pandemics, all end-of-the-world scenarios. Also the discourse on immigrants and refugees.
Pratchett also throws in the whole Gods thing too, and a sort of circular concept of this one place being the beginning of all places.
An interesting read but not one I felt particularly inspiring or funny. I was surprised it was turned into a theatre show in 2009. I didn't think it was one of his better stories or commentaries on human society.
View all my reviews
December 27, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 319 - The Final Prompt!
This week's - and final - picture prompt is from digital artist Jeffrey Smith. I love his art. I used others of his pieces on Week 245, Week 307 and Week 310. It's definitely something I'd fill my house with. He created this back in 2017 and called it 'I'm never going back.' Strangely app for my last Mid-Week Flash entry and post.
I've decided I need more time to focus on other projects and have been struggling to write for this on time or sometimes at all over the past year, so am bringing it to a halt, the end of 2023 being very fitting as I've been running it for 7 years, and life tends to run in 7 year cycles.
I will never say never in terms of returning to it, but for now, it's time to retire it. It's benefitted my writing so much, and I've really enjoyed it.
Today's is short and sweet as I am still working on Tricky's third book, and this is a snippet.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Left Hanging
He’d gone and leftanother one open! What was with him? Did he really think Tricky was thatstupid? His big shiny ‘follow me this way’ signs weren’t going to fool her, ohno. She wasn’t going to jump through every open time portal he created in anattempt to chase him, no way, definitely not. He thought she was stupid,clearly, or that she wasn’t as gifted as him - but he was proving he couldn’tpossibly be, with leaving these things hanging in the sky all over the place.
Tricky stopped on the path to take in the magnificenceof this opening though; portals were truly beautiful to behold, even thoughthey were horribly dangerous – and not just for the individual but for thewhole time plane. It was like making a tiny hole in the leg of a stocking, eventuallyit would tear the entire thing apart, making it unusable.
Tricky narrowed her eyes, or was that hisplan? Was he trying to destabilise it all? Or was he trying to play some randomgame with her that didn’t make sense, other than boy wizards with overblownegos who were crap at setting traps?
Tricky didn’t waste time on trying to workout his mindless ploys to entrap her, she knew better, but she wasn’t justgoing to ignore what he’d done, instead she had to work to close the portal andreturn this plane to safety.
It didn’t take her long, being that she’ddone it before, and with the swathes of grasslands around her there was anabundance of energy to work with and help her shut it down. It was still scaryas it pulled together – also pulling at her - but once it reduced to a certainsize it zipped up quickly with a deafening pop, and the pale blue sky returned.
It cleared the pathway ahead, which led inbetween the fields to a point as yet not visible, but Tricky knew was there. Sheneeded to reach it before dark. She took in deep breaths, calling in her ownyellow energy and the lime green of the land around and sped up. This was not aplace to be after dark.
December 20, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 318
This week's new picture prompt was taken by photographer Dec_Des, they specialise in abandoned urban buildings. Their own account Instagram is locked, but manage Abandoned Addiction where they share pictures from other photographers. However, when asked about this picture they confirmed that the image was real and from an abandoned button factory in Athens, Greece. They said, that the photograph wasn't staged, and that the buttons were "all over the top floor in plastic bags decayed and opened with that result and all over the stairs."
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Koumpouno
Silvia stood frozenat the top of the stairs. Oh my god! Who had done this?! Someone that knew,that’s who!
She could feel her heart racing and sweatbreak out on her palms as her trembling fingers gripped the banister while shepeered over the edge to see every stair covered in buttons; thousands of themin all different shapes and sizes, and a kaleidoscope of colour trailing downthe two flights.
Her mind raced trying to identify who shehad told about her phobia; it wasn’t something she usually did, there weren’tmany that knew. Most people would cross examine her or tease her or thentrigger her by waving them in her face. She hated it.
No, Silvia had kept it to herself foryears, so how had it come about that not only did someone know, but they hadbroken into her house and done this? What kind of lunatic would?
Silvia needed to get down the stairs –something the person that had done this obviously knew. She shuffled forwardand pushed some of the buttons along in front of her causing them to toppleover each other, some going over the edge of the stairwell and hitting others,causing a cascade.
Silvia took deep breaths. She could dothis. They were only bits of plastic with holes in them. She didn’t have totouch them; she didn’t have to feel their slimy texture or funny ridges, andthey wouldn’t be coming anywhere near her face!
She reached the edge of the first step,disrupting a pile there, causing them to trickle over it, the sound of thembouncing down the stairs as one hit another like an avalanche putting her teethon edge.
She lifted her foot and knew she had to putit down on the button-covered first step. She shoved her foot forward,dislodging more of them but at least making room for her feet. She clenched herteeth and took in rapid breaths through her nose as she told herself to keepmoving. If she stopped she might not be able to get started again.
Silva kept this mindset as she took eachstep, encouraging herself and calming herself, until she got into a rhythm. Sherelaxed at the first floor landing. She could shuffle forward pushing throughthem, rather than having to feel them under her feet. She felt stronger on thenext flight down, and was so focused on her mental coaching she didn’t see thefigure standing at the bottom until she took the final step and they startedclapping.
The sound startled her, making her cry out.For a moment Silvia forgot about her fear of the buttons even though they were scatteredall over the floor down here too.
And there he was, Nigel, standing there,looking all smug.
Why didn’t she think of him? They’d spokenabout it recently too; how had she forgotten that? Maybe because she liked him– a lot, so much she’d given him a key, just last week. And maybe because he’dbeen sympathetic, and their new relationship was still growing and her heartwarming to him. But that warmth now turned to fire as she became overwhelmedwith anger and hurt.
“How could you! And why would you?”
He stopped clapping, a surprised expressionwiping the grin off his face.
“The best way to overcome a phobia is toconfront it.”
“You know nothing about my phobia! You knownothing about how it affects me, or what it was caused by! You have no ideawhat emotional trauma you are triggering and wounds you are opening! You barelyknow me!”
“But … but … I thought, you know, becauseyou told me and … you gave me a key … that we weren’t strangers anymore.”
“And that would make it okay for you tothink you could heal me by putting me through something as horrific as this?And not just all the buttons, but that you snuck into my house and laid thisfor me like a trap! I think you need to leave now, Nigel, and leave my keytoo.”
“But, Silvia, baby, I’m sorry.”
He endeavoured to reach out to her, but shetook a sudden step back, feeling the buttons under her heel as she did so,making her cringe.
“Go now! I’m not interested in sorry.You’ve shown me your true colours. I don’t want to know. Go!”
Nigel’s mouth opened and closed a fewtimes, but he did as she asked, handing her the key and silently left.
Silvia waited for the front door to close completely,then she made her way through the hallway, the buttons thinning out anddissipating completely by the time she reached the kitchen.
She filled the kettle as though onautopilot, and switched it on, standing there motionless while it began toboil. And then she burst into tears, her sobs coming hard and fast, her handson her mouth to try and stifle the sound.
The relief of getting down the stairs, andunexpected break up with Nigel – and the thought of having to clean up allthose buttons was too much for her, and she sat on the kitchen floor and let itconsume her.
But once the flood of tears was over andshe caught her breath once more, she realised one thing: he’d been right;confronting all those buttons had made her face it, and although she wouldnever like them, they no longer held such fear.
In fact, as she spotted one by her hand, shepicked it up – she could even touch them now. She still hated their slipperyfeel, her nose flaring with revulsion, but she didn’t shake or sweat with fear. She might not be able to forgive the sneaky, back-handed way of doing it, but he’d gone and bloody cured her!
December 18, 2023
My favourite 3 reads of 2023
Over on Shepherd book website, they asked me what my top three reads for 2023 were so I told them!
Click on the picture below to find out why

And if you are an author, Shepherd are always looking for more authors to join, so get in touch with them here. It cost nothing!
December 17, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 317
This week's picture prompt was created by French digital artist Cyril Rolando. They call this one We are dancing in chains. They have made some incredible pieces and clearly their works speaks to me because I have used a few on Mid-Week Flash before: Week 283, Week 278 and Week85.
Finally got round to writing this piece that's been stuck in my head. It's a dark one.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Emancipation
There was thatsound again and he was gone, triggered back into a time he had worked so hardto put behind him. But suddenly he could see that room again and smell therancid sweat, not just of the visitor but of his own fear. And he could feelthem – the chains, on his ankles and on his wrists, holding him, keeping himthere, keeping him submissive, keeping him as their play thing.
He was frozen to the spot. He worked totake a breath and remind himself it was over, it would never happen again. But evenafter all this time (he’d be celebrating ten years next month) the sound ofchains did this to him. It didn’t matter where they were – today was theharbour – or why – they were hauling in an anchor – it didn’t fail to paralysehim, stopping him dead in his tracks.
He felt his mind switch over into automaticpilot. He managed to continue walking back to his car, and get in and driveback to the office. It was like he was watching himself as he made all thecorrect motions on the way back, while his mind tried to stop him from fallinginto the pit of darkness that would shut him down mentally for days or evenweeks. At the office he made all the correct sounds and expressions for peopleto believe he was fine, but once alone behind his desk he knew there was oneperson he had to speak to; the one person who could help him get a handle onthis flashback.
“Hey, Giles, it’s not like you to call meduring the day, is everything okay?”
She knew, she always knew.
“No, not really. I had to go down to thedocks and watch something being loaded, and it happened …”
“What happened?”
“Chains on concrete.”
“Oh shit. Do you want me to come over?”
“I’m still at work.”
“I can meet you after if you like?”
“I just needed to tell someone whounderstood. I just needed to say it out loud.”
“I understand. Sounds are the hardest part –and smells.”
“Yeah. It’s like I could smell it again,though it was just in my mind.”
“I’ll meet you after work, we’ll have dinner.It will break the cycle of the reaction.”
“Good idea.”
“When’s your next therapy session?”
“Next week.”
“Not too far away then.”
“No. Hopefully I can report on how Iprocessed it.”
“You already are processing it by callingme.”
“True. Thank you Shaunna.”
“I’m just happy you called. I’ll see you outsideat six, okay?”
“See you then.”
“Bye.”
Giles put the phone down. He felt like hewas coming back to himself again. He felt like he could focus on what was infront of him on his desk. He’d managed to switch off the autopilot.
He didn’t know what he would do without thesupport of another who had been put through the same. Someone who knew thehorror of being sold as a child, and used and abused for years. Some days hehated that they had survived to live with the memories, but most days he wasjust grateful to be free.
December 7, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 316
This week's picture prompt was creted by fine art photographer, Vassilis Tangoulis. This is among his collection, Dreams in Colour on his site. He has some wonderful pictures, worth checking out.
Delving once again into Tricky's world and the characters in there. Last time was Week 315.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Watched
He paused on hisway to the jetty. Was he being followed? He was sure he felt eyes on him. Hiseyes scanned the trees at the edge of the path and touched the amethyst Trickyhad left him in his pocket. He felt Tricky’s energy and it reassured him, butit wouldn’t make him safe.
Tricky had also left a piece of peridot andyellow birch leaf, and while Nathan slipped into the trees on the right side ofthe path, he used it to become invisible by pressing them together in his otherpocket.
He remained where he was and waited, hopingthat whoever or whatever had their eyes on him would appear.
He heard a shuffling and a boy stepped outonto the path from the trees on the other side.
Nathan frowned to himself. He might nothave thought much of such a youngster except they were wearing a black cloak.It looked like a uniform, one that triggered a memory from his youth. Couldthis be one of Douglas Bottle’s students? Did he even still have students? Nathanthought he probably did; it was useful having underlings to run errands foryou, while you passed on your craft. And Bottle was that kind of old school mentor– one that Nathan used to respect, but less so now he knew Bottle was involvedwith The Network.
But this confirmed one thing, he was beingwatched. Did they know he went to the cabin on the lake? He remained still. Hewould let the boy show him.
The boy looked both ways up the path andthen crossed into the trees, passing close to Nathan. He walked a few trees inand then stopped looking round himself.
Nathan doubted this young one would haveany perception of using gemstones to make yourself invisible. Surely if theydid they would be using it. Nathan was sure the boy couldn’t sense him, andenjoyed being hidden right under his nose. Tricky had certainly excelled atdiscovering the intricacies of such energy combinations. Dufray had been justas gifted, and Nathan felt a slight pang of remorse that he was dead; so muchknowledge lost to their little world at a time they needed it most.
He watched the boy look around, trying totrack Nathan. But Nathan couldn’t be tracked because he hadn’t gone where theboy was looking.
He continued to observe the boy as he returnto the path and continued along it, this time with Nathan in pursuit still veiledfrom view. The boy paused at Dead Lake, and looked at the cabin. However, hedidn’t endeavour to go across the jetty and inside, instead giving it a cursoryglance then continuing along the shoreline of dead trees, and then passingbetween them into the living trees behind.
Nathan followed.
When the boy was four or five trees deep,he stopped again and let out some whistles. Two more boys joined him, and theyheld a whispered conversation Nathan couldn’t tap into while veiled. Then thethree of them moved off further into the woods. Nathan continued to trail them,even when they used their energy to pick up speed, a simple trick he used a lotwhen covering large distances, which this turned out to be. They didn’t meet upwith anyone else and eventually disappeared down inside the base of a verylarge red-coloured tree.
Nathan looked up at the tree. At this pointhe wished he had Tricky’s ability to communicate with it. He put his hand onthe trunk, and although he could feel the energy running through it, and eventap into it, it didn’t give him any information. It was a shame. He could seethe opening they used, but it wasn’t a good idea to go down there when he hadno idea where it led. He knew it was into one of the bunkers, which was probablyconnected to others, but getting lost in a rabbit warren of them when your enemywas all around would be foolish.
Nathan turned back instead, remaining cloakedthe entire time, not feeling safe to release the peridot and leaf until he wasback inside the time wrap in the cabin.
He was confident they knew he was residinghere – or at least suspected he did. How long had they been watching him? Questionshe couldn’t answer. But they’d know who he was; he was familiar with their mentor,as anyone who had schooled under Tricky’s mother, Angelique Hayek, would be.
They had all met Douglas Bottle at somepoint – or Gandalf as he liked to be nicknamed. Bottle might look uncouth andlarger than life in his garish coloured suits, but he had a keen memory andknew everyone. Nathan knew he’d recall his association with Tricky, Annie, and Lucien.There was no doubt he knew they were working together. But the question thatburned brightest was, did they know this was Tricky’s cabin, or did they thinkit was just another of Nathan’s abodes? Which led to the next question: howmuch longer was Nathan safe here?
Nathan needed to inform Annie and Tricky assoon as possible.
November 30, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 315
This week's picture prompt was created by hungarian born, Sarolta Ban. She doesn't give this a name, but it is located in the fabulae category. It's not the first time I've used one of her images. I used one on Week 31, Week 304, Week 28, and Week 24 . She has some exceptional images, I would probably pic a different one every week to use they're so good.
A brief one as I keep exploring some ideas for Tricky's tales. Last time I wrote one for her was Week 314 - just last week.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Spies
“It was huge, it came at me out ofnowhere!”
“It was just a bird, Dimitri. It wasprobably as frightened as you!”
“No, it knew what it was doing! It had beensent by her.”
“Who?”
“Tricky, that thorn in our sides.”
“But talking to birds is not one of hergifts, that belongs to Dufray.”
“It definitely wasn’t one of his, Gandalf.I’d have recognised it.”
“I think you’re exaggerating. It wasprobably one of his jackdaws.”
“Oh no, this was much bigger than one ofthose.”
“Probably one of the larger corvids then.”
“Are there bigger ones?”
“Oh yes. I used to have a pet raven,beautiful bird it was, so intelligent. I couldn’t communicate with it likeLucien does his birds, but it was smart enough to be able to communicate withme. There aren’t many of them left now – at least I don’t see them around whereI live. I hope they have managed to repopulate.”
“Aren’t ravens black though? This was brownwith a white head.”
Gandalf laughed.
“That was no corvid, that was a peregrinefalcon. And that means they’ve brought Safa Odeh in.”
“Who’s that? Someone we should be worriedabout?”
“Probably not, though her falcon isdefinitely as keen as any raven. It seems they have their spies out.”
“Maybe I should arrange to have the birdskilled.”
Gandalf laughed again.
“Oh, Dimitri, I doubt very highly you’d beable to outsmart a bird of prey. But no, if they are watching us, we can put ona show for them and lead them on a merry dance.”
Dimitri Stanislav’s thin, hard face lit upwith an ear-splitting grin.
“Oh yes, what a good idea.”
November 22, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 314
This week's picture prompt is a digital creation by Ciara, or Aura, as she calls herself online, and She Freaks, She Speaks, over on Facebook. She has some wonderful digital art, and she also has a shop where she sell crystals and crystal jewellery. If you like that sort of thing there's a lot of choice. I have also used one of her pictures before on Week 301 with the teapot, & Week 291 I with the stained glass bath.
A Tricky related story, exploring some backstory. The last time I wrote one about Tricky was on Week 312.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Activated
“Have you got it?”
“Yes, it was easy, he gave it to me withoutquestion.”
“Good.” Douglas Bottle, aka Gandalf, tookthe smooth, large, palm-sized obsidian from Adric and turned it over in hishands. “It is rather special, isn’t it?”
“Oh yes.”
“And it records, you say?”
“I’ve tested it a few times, it’s quiteeasy to activate, you just have to use a combination of energy light andsound.”
“Sound?”
“Yes, if I use a certain pitch orintonation with some keywords, and run some magenta light through it, it turnsit on.”
“And you can play it back the same way?”
“Yes. And it’s personalised; every person’svoice has a different level of intonation.”
“So I can’t activate it then?”
“Not recordings I make no, but you can makeyour own.”
“So it’s like secret recordings for eachindividual?”
“Yes. Though, Dufray has managed to recordon it and I’ve managed to activate it by running light through it, so I’m notquite sure.”
“Secret recordings he’s made?”
“Oh no. I’m not even sure he knew it wasrecording; it was just him jabbering on to his flock of birds. But it’s how Irealised it could record and I’ve been testing it out since.”
“It would be a neat trick to leave it in aroom to capture conversations.”
“Nice idea, but it needs to be activated byenergy light, which has to be sustained.”
“Shame. So there’s no way we can do thiswithout him knowing?”
“Ithought you were going to drug him?”
“Yes, but I was hoping to do it subtly sohe wouldn’t catch on. Here …”
Gandalf led Adric downstairs into a dimlylit basement, one lined with shelves full of different bottles containing liquidin an array of colours. He took them over to a bench where three bottles withcat heads as stoppers stood. The innards of each one glowed with swirlingcolours, but what unnerved Adric was that the heads moved as though alive,blinking and meowing. Gandalf stroked one of them and it omitted a purr.
“What are those?”
“They’re just enchanted. If anyone but me touchesthem they will hiss or bite to alert me to any trespasser. Their contents havetaken me years to develop, and it’s this particular potion I was hoping to testout on Dimitri tonight.”
“He’s no fool. How will you get him to takeit?”
“Oh it’s tasteless, thus easy to put into adrink.”
“Okay. Will he be dopey or out of it? Toactivate the stone I need to create an energy light set up.”
“You could say it’s for protection. It’snot like he will know; he has little concept of this stuff, he just does as Itell him with any of the enchantments or energetic communications he partakesin. He won’t be out of it so much as loose tongued. I’m intrigued what he willcome out with.”
“So am I. But remind me again why youwanted this recorded?”
“I don’t trust Dimitri, or his endgame. Hetreats folk like us as disposable. So should any of this not go the way we wantit, we have something to blackmail him with … should that time come.”
“Oh my father would love to get his handson anything that would incriminate Stanislav. He’s itching for a reason to disposeof him.”
“He’d have to find him first.”
“Indeed, he’s a slippery bugger.”
“Which is why I’m hoping to pin him down onthis recording. Now, go back upstairs and get everything ready. He’ll be herein a moment.”
November 15, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 313
This week's picture prompt is by Simone Pinna, a self-taught Italian artist, known particularly for Erotic Faires, so be careful clicking that link - it is definitely NSFW! Though this link should only go to the picture that I am using as a prompt. Despite the riskee nature, there's some incredible art and talent!
A dabble into the concept of getting wings being a trend.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Mutant
She went up ontiptoes, craning to see her ankles in the full-length mirror. She hoped theylooked better than they felt; she hadn’t anticipated them being so painful. Shethought that getting your wings would be delightful, maturing and completing.But she felt none of those things; she felt disappointed, ignorant and naive.
She believed from here on out she would be blissfullyhappy, but if the pain of the fitting into the ankles was this bad, she dreadedto think what the pain in the back would feel like. No one had talked aboutthat, they had only talked about the delight of flying. They didn’t talk aboutwhat it took to get there.
Still, she could flutter them, even if itwas sore and it made them bleed. They looked pretty. She just had to tolerate afew days of discomfort. But it did make her think twice about how quickly shewas going to get her back wings fitted – although how stupid would she look ifshe walked around for months with just ankle wings? She would only be able to hoverabove the ground for a couple of minutes before falling flat on her face. No,she had to suck it up and go ahead with her plans for the operation thefollowing week, and get all the pain over in one go.
She hoped that once it was done she wouldget over her stupid vertigo too. None of her mates had a problem launchingthemselves off cliffs, and she put that down to them already having their wingsfor years. They’d had parents that had been able to afford to get them fittedwhen they were young, so they could grow into them – although it did mean they’dhad to have corrective surgery a few times too. At least she would only need togo through it once now she was fully grown.
She tried not to think about how bad hervertigo had got when Belito had taken her out last month. She’d held onto himas he’d taken them to a secluded spot for a bit of romance, but it had takenall her willpower to stop herself going into full blown panic. She’d tried tohide it from him, but he’d known, and when he’d dumped her the following weekhe’d called her an archaic mutant.
She looked at her ankles in the mirror. Shefelt more of a mutant now. Did everyone bleed this badly? She didn’t dare ask.She didn’t want to be seen as weak or find out she was the freak. It was badenough living to this age without wings.
She dabbed at the blood, which was stilltrickling out. She hoped they wouldn’t get infected. She’d go to the shop andget some ointment today, and maybe visit the cliff, see if she still felt thesame. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be taking her own maiden flight. Sheneeded to get used to it. Things would improve – they had to.