The Sunday Whirl

Shane shrugged in the near dark, her cream hued wings folded back. Only feeling unfathomable despair as flickering firelight lit up the scene—a silent witness to the broken bodies of two cunning demons. Earlier that day, Shane realized the gloaming in the clouds formed a message, an omen of evil coming. Still undone from the battle, all at once heat of the fire grew more intense and the flames leapt out and consumed the demon bodies. Shane thought this might be her own fate, but instead the flames provided an end to the evil foretold. Only deep black shadows remained and even they would disappear in dawn’s light.

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Wordle 666