Napkin Whisper With Wings Novels & Stories

“First thing to know when you sit down is your napkin goes on your lap.” I frown. “Why would you put it in your lap if you need it for your hands?” “Well because you wipe your hands on your lap,” Angela says. She gently plucks the napkin off of the massive piles of my plates in front of her. She shakes it once to unfold it then gingerly lays it over her thighs. I try and do the same thing. I don’t feel nearly as graceful as Angela as I shake the napkin a hundred times to get it to unfold. Angela says nothing as I fumble through it. She simply smiles at me and motions back to the setting in front of us.

She rolled her eyes at the phone. “Ok, fine, they have feathers on them. The upper bar has black feathers, the lower has red.” Stacy picked up the napkin to look at it and noticed that the feather was red. She sighed and looked down at the floor. Now what? “I found a napkin from your bar outside my house tonight, along with a stuffed horse that looks like the one I used to ride as a child,” Stacy said as she let out a deep breath she hadn’t noticed she had been holding.

The two of them stood side by side in the gray light, one tall and one short, like two trees growing from the same stump—one that had grown for many years, and one that had just begun to sprout. Jenny sat on the steps, holding a paper cup of coffee in her hands. Steam rose from the cup, forming a small cloud of white mist in front of her chin before being blown away by the wind. Her fingers touched the sides of the paper cup. The warmth transferred from the cup to her fingertips, and then from her fingertips to the palm of her hand. Her other hand was tucked into the inner pocket of her suit. Her fingertips touched two objects. One was a butterfly drawn by Olivia, with pink wings and two tea

I’m the type of girl who knows how to do a good winged liner and wears a small amount of lip gloss with a little glitter if I’m feeling girly which is almost never. I’m the type of girl that would break her ankle if she wore any kind of heel higher then two or three inches and that’s pushing it. Im the type of girl that hates the way she looks in most dresses and skirts. I’m the type of girl who rolls out of bed and just tosses her hair into a messy bun on top of her head and goes. Yes with out brushing it. A soft kiss on my cheek pulls me out of my thoughts at the same time my phone pings notifying me that my Uber is here.

I grasp onto that flow and press into it, pushing spikes into her veins, crawling up her arms, her— Pain blossoms in my arms, my legs. My torso’s on fire and I scream. Carita laughs. “Remember that you aren’t the only illusionist here, birdie.” Disbelief slides from my thoughts, my grip on reality slipping into pain and darkness. But I can’t look away from Vito; I have to make sure he’s okay. “Nighty night,” she whispers, pressing a thumb against my forehead. Vito’s vibrant wings fade from my vision, his amber eyes blurring into the landscape.

" They hopped in their car and peeled out, leaving me alone outside the venue. The wind bit into me. I tugged my coat closer and waved down a cab home. All my stuff had been thrown outside, dumped across the doorstep like garbage. The maid looked sorry as she said, "Mr. and Mrs. Swain told me you have to leave and never come back." I didn't charge in to yell at them. I just packed up quietly, then walked away with my things. That very night, I got on a plane out of town, heading to a hidden research base run by the National Space Agency. Just before I left, I texted everyone, "I, Wanda Swain, am officially done with the Swains for good and by choice."

“Did you just nickname me? That is so sweet." He returned her gaze. "Whose cutout was it that you used to marry?" She paused. "You're right, we shouldn't talk." At this point, Willow and Wes were standing in front of a wooden structure that appeared to be an old house at the top of the hill. As the two entered through the doorless entrance, there was a strong lavender scent in the air. A woman in black and purple robes sat on the edge of the elevated platform near the entrance with one leg folded and the other resting on the floor. She picked a few of the dried petals from a large tray she was holding in her lap.

he asks without looking up, his voice low and a little rough, like he’s smoked too much or yelled too often. I nod, sipping my coffee. “Yeah. Just thinking.” He glances up. “Dangerous habit.” “Says the guy who draws knives on napkins.” “It’s not a knife. It’s a crow.” I lean across the table to look. The napkin’s a mess of ink, but the shape is forming, curved wings, a sharp beak, shadows around the eyes. “That’s not a crow,” I tease. “Not yet.” He smirks. “It’s becoming one.”

Innessa stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked beautiful. The light, natural makeup looked so good on her. Her long hair cascaded down her back in waves as she donned a gorgeous white gown that made her look like a princess from a fairytale. The door was knocked twice before it was opened, and Harper stepped inside, donning a beautiful blue dress with silver diamonds. She looked ethereal. Harper beamed at Innessa as she stared at her in awe. " You look so beautiful," Harper praised her as she stepped closer, holding Innessa's hands in awe.

"I was also pinching and pulling on my stiff little nipples, if that fascinates you, too." "It does! And no I don't want you to send it to me!" I said. "How in hell would that help with my abstinence? I've got a freaking boner right here under the table ... and I'm commando!" She laughed, pushed her napkin on the floor, and bent over to look while she picked it up. The waitress returned while Lana's head was below the table, and when she straightened up, she said to her, "Dropped my napkin." She turned to me, and with a wide grin, she gave me a little salute, and said, "Atten-tion!"