The flowers woke me first, quietly tiptoeing into my sleep and casting a sweet floral filter over everything. I felt myself smile, breathing in the soft bouquet.Then came the smoke.Black, burning, and unforgivably present, it wafted in with an acrid bite, curdling my dreams into nightmares. My eyes flashed open and instantly watered as I stared into the rafters.Was that shouting? p.116
Elizabeth Wilcox. Writer, Avid Role-Player, Amateur Mixologist. Survivor.
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Enchanted Garden Book Club