Wicked Witch

The flames flickered in reds and oranges, casting a warm glow across the hearth and the old, overstuffed armchairs. The colors of the room were muted beneath the hazy light. A boy stared into the flames intently, headless of the heat warming his face. “I wished upon a star last night.” He mumbled to himself, sitting down on the mat in his pajamas with a thump. “I wished I had someone to talk to, about, you know . . . things.” The boy’s blue eyes glistened. He told himself that it was just the heat stinging, and remembered the sharp voice of his father. ‘Big boys don’t cry.’ The flames

Delighted to see this finished. I was in shock ehen i saw the update notifications haha. Worth the wait though

Thank you so much all! <3 It means a ton to me that you liked it.

Thanks guys! Sorry I've been out of existence for the last while. I really really appreciate your words. I have had lots of ideas for Yaidul's second chapter but nothing concrete has some into being yet, so I won't promise anything.

Oh sorry! I haven't been on gA for an age due to RL. Thank you a ton @comicfan

I will admit I think I may have ticked 'can't afford' even though once in a blue moon I do subscribe. It tends to be about two months out of the year, when I have the time to do a reading blitz. So that make effect it if other people did the same.

Glad you enjoyed. Thank you.

Thanks Valkyrie. I've had some thoughts on a longer story that follows Jo into adulthood but I know my commitment is so awful I'd never finish it.

A young boy called Jo meets a new friend in the fireplace on a strange night. One never knows what wishing on stars will bring you.

Good reviews! Broken Prince and Mismatched Eyes is totally one of my two favourite stories on GA. Its amazing. So well written and so emotional even on the 7th read.

The flames flickered reds and oranges, casting a warm glow across the hearth and the old, overstuffed armchairs. The colours of the room were muted beneath the hazy light. A boy stared into the flames intently, headless of the heat warming his porcelain face. “I wished upon a star last night.” He mumbled to himself, sitting down on the mat in his pajamas. “I wished I had someone to talk to, about, you know . . . things.” The boy’s blue eyes glistened; he told himself that it was just the heat stinging his retinas. He remembered a sharp voice. ‘Big boys don’t cry.’ The flames popped

I had more ambitious ideas in mind but I'm running out of time so settled on a 1,000 word short story that I like. It might, if I get the inclination, later become part of a serial but I don't need more projects . . . . This was a fun challenge however.