The Perils of Rosella
Camille Griep
HELP My father is dying. LOOK To the west: sharp-toothed seas. To the east: uncharted territory.
HELP My father is dying. LOOK To the west: sharp-toothed seas. To the east: uncharted territory.
Go on, open it, he says. I tear at the tape, unveiling a heavily packaged plastic box of some sort. What is it? I ask. The label says Game Genie. It’s to help you win at the games. When I’m not there.
At the edge of the Dead Forest and the Black Mage village, Vivi stared at the blanket of grey spread above in all directions. The rains ended but night descended, and the silence of the Dead Forest remained.
There was that time, outside this house, we made a bridge to cross—we put down rocks and mud to stop the creek from flowing: to end gravity, to halt the natural movement of things.
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