Melissa Rose Boisclair

This next story is one I wrote a long time ago, but it's always been one of my favorites. To be honest, I've been struggling a lot with my writing lately. When I sit down to create my mind goes blank and I start to wonder if I've been wrong all these years because I can't always find the passion anymore. For now, I present this page of the past. As for this blog and where I take it next, I'll let you know when I do. Enjoy , The Fey's Gate              When the moon slumbers and only stars light the sky, there’s a magic you can feel in every leaf and dewdrop. From beneath the ground to the tips of the highest trees it dances and swirls at your fingertips. The air is filled with the smell of this magic- fresh like the end of a rainstorm in a mossy forest. The rich soil gives under your bare toes and in every reflective surface, colorful flashes of light dart and weave around you.      ...

 I haven't been writing lately which, in all honesty, isn't the strange part. What makes it worth noting is that I hadn't even noticed that I wasn't writing. Usually, the knowledge of my failed attempts (or lack of attempts) is a constant, grating knowledge weighing down my every thought and action. I play video games (Horizon Zero Dawn <3 )  and the thought pesters. I read a book, and anxiety swirls. Dusk falls, night rises, and I sink into self-loathing at the wasted but pleasantly relaxing day. This time I didn't even notice my lack of ambition toward chasing a dream I've had since middle school. Why? I was probably having too much fun. I did need the break, though. Writing anything was becoming a painful process for me. Every word was nails driven through my fingers. It's back to being mostly effortless now. (pfft) So, I have another story for your delight. This one, like the last, is based on a dream I had. Actually, as it's recorded in my journ...