Mixture

(What happens when my muses mixes up real life events with fiction)

The child looked afraid of the harpy. The harpy’s smile was not unkindly as it moved towards the child. “Tell me your story, child, and I will lead you to heaven.” The child took the outstretched hand, asking as only a child would, “Are my parents there?” At her nod, the child began to tell of her story.

“I come from a mountain village.