A House Between Sea and Sky

by Beth Cato

She wore her thin black hair pinned atop her head, the late Victorian style reminiscent of a limp pillow.

When she saw motes of light, after all, she first thought of fairies, not God’s glory. Oh, how she and Ma used to argue on this topic! Magic wasn’t everywhere, Ma would fuss, but God was. Fayette didn’t think the two should necessarily be separate.

A normal person might see a unicorn or encounter a genuine witch perhaps a time or two in life, if they were lucky—or unlucky, depending on how those meetings went.

What she did miss, however, was family. Intimate talks. Hugs. Shopping with someone. The preciousness of silent companionship.