Chapter Three – The Last Sprite

I stared at my hand regularly during the drive, making sure I didn’t go into fireball mode again and hurt my poor steering wheel. Every few minutes I would pick up the phone to call my mom and tell her all about my day. What would I say? “Hi mom, I know you don’t even like fairy tales, but you should see what my hand can do.” I imagined a million different ways to at least let her know something. I always called her. She was my best friend. I had no answers for any of the questions I knew she...