Swan Hill, by Laura Michet
October 20, 2013 11:39 AM Subscribe
Your brother sighs and takes his pipe out of his jacket. "It's good to be home," he says, and fills the bowl. "A light?" You
put your hand out.snap your fingers. There's the sharp stab familiar pricklecomfortable ache in your wrist, among the bones. A flame leaps from your fingertips.
(via Rock Paper Shotgun)
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