Rachel DeSot ☕️📖さんのプロフィール画像

Rachel DeSot ☕️📖さんのイラストまとめ


#Writer/MG & YA fantasy with a sprinkle of eerie. Happy wife. Dream: live in a forest where magical creatures lurk and dragons fly overhead.
facebook.com/rachelddesot/

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The heart isn’t just muscle. It has an ulterior Sometimes it attacks, causing death or a bypass. Sometimes it drums to a wild beat, increasing panic or fright. Sometimes it flutters, and we fall in love. My heart just broke. And it tricked my eyes into crying.

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Wishing everyone Happy Holidays! May your new year be happy, healthy, and prosperous! 🎅🏼🎄⛄️❄️🤶🏼❤️

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She had hair & eyes the color of the frozen lake. When I was eight, I saw her standing at the edge of the trees where her body had been found. The adults got angry with me, saying I shouldn’t make up stories about the dead girl. But I know what I saw.

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She to the window, beckoned by the billowing drapes. Teetering on the sill, she bounds into air. Her wings sprout like magic, & she flap towards the stars. Gleefully she laughs and twirls up to the moon. Pain and disappointment are left trapped in her sheets.

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Which one, which one? She sauntered through her huge, fancy closet running her manicured fingers along the options. With empty eyes her many sagged from the velvet hangers: one laughing, one smiling coyly, one a flirty tease. She ignored her true face: despair.

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Her eyes were blinded by cataracts. The park was dark and gray, except for the birds. Sapphire blue jays, ruby cardinals, amethyst hummingbirds. Brilliant, they sang a song only she could hear. She smiled as she at the tiny, winged angels.

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Trolls are not known for their intellect. But was different. At 3 years old he was a philosopher at heart. He sat by the brook, listening to it babble about the twists & turns of its path. It reminded him of the adventures that life had sprung on his short life.

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He calls for a
the likes I’ve never seen

Tweets, incites, and instigates
sits back to watch the scene

Pits brother against brother
and wants to see us fight

His goal is pure destruction
before he takes his flight

😢

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A kiss under the leaves me stranded with no oars, on a with no map, a journey with no compass. The carolers sing, the lights twinkle, the bows sparkle, the honey ham wafts its aroma. In this moment I am happily lost.

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