by Ellie Rose McKee
The mask encased the spirit of a little girl, trapped there by her mother. Supposedly to keep her safe. In actuality to keep her helpless. To stop the princess from harnessing her powers, and using them to break free from her parent’s tight hold.
It was twenty nine years, to the month, when the east facing visage became cracked, and the girl’s essence became aglow with hope. Through the small fissure her spirit spilled out, like smoke, and fell to the ground, gradually reforming once there. Alas, the process took time. Six months had passed, before the princess was almost corporeal once more. That was when the wind swept in, and scattered the knitting pieces to the farthest plains.
Night fell upon the earth, and Elinor’s plight was done.
Lover of Travel & Chocolate Cake. Author of 'Still Dreaming' & 'Wake.' Maker of Mess & YouTube Videos.
Pieces Inspired by this Image
''Tis the Season'