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Pocketful of Tame Wishes
fantasyEveryone5 contributors · 5 paragraphs deep
Wren ran between Marta and the shadows and held up the cold blue jar. 'Real friends, not these ghosts,' she said firmly. The pale shapes shivered and scattered into the dawn light. Marta blinked, as if waking from a dream, and let Wren lead her safely home.
Back at the cottage, Wren spoke kindly into the jar: 'Send her one true friend who stays.' Warmth filled the cold glass, and a neighbor knocked at the door with fresh soup. Marta's loneliness lifted for good. Wren capped the jar, proud of the quiet little kitchen she'd left behind. Mended.
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