Sióg ar ais
Annie paid little attention to the broiling heat. A raven-haired woman walked past, her back bare of linen; instead, a fully realized Faery tattoo gripped Annie’s attention. The exquisite carving was mesmerizing. Annie’s cheeks burst bright crimson; her ink was nowhere near this mastery.
Walking down Tarot Alley, Annie followed the Faery. The details were flawless. The wings, translucent. Frenzied wind draped around the Sidhe. The Fae shimmered and drew Annie along.
The woman stopped.
“Would you like to touch her?” she murmured, her back still to Annie.
An expectant “Yes,” glided out of Annie as she raised her hands…
Critique. Done. Write.
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