I don’t mean to be controversial, but words have meaning, and how you wield them counts.
From The Ministry of Time, by Kaliane Bradley:
He told me that moss is a sign that God has a sense of humor, and fungi that he as a sense of awe.
From The Blue Maiden, by Anna Noyes:
“Beware the shadow-being,” she reads, “a wraith who walks as your antipode throguh an underground world, the soles of her feet attached to yours as if sewn together.”
From Love is a Burning Thing, by Nina St. Pierre:
Her devotion was never meant to be dogmatic. To be confined by effigies or inelastic rituals. She erected altars wherever she went.
A turquoise scarf laid over a cardboard box.
A thrifted blanket draped over a plastic patio chair.
Throwaway nothings refashioned into something sacred.
