Before the rose was there, the garden was full of moss. I started as a seed under it, waiting for the right time to sprout. Clover waited, and waited, and tended the garden, and didn’t listen to anyone who said she should give up. Moss, my other mother, she waited too. But Clover was the […]
via The Power of Whimsy and Magic in Queer Stories — The Afictionado
WILDsound Festival 