Literature
The Books of Fae - Chapter 4
The rain had become a heavy mist by the time we finally threw the mooring lines on the deck and let out the gang plank, a gray, steel ramp with a roughened surface to offer traction in wet conditions. Matt pushed his ailing cousin in the wheelchair, wrapped up in a fleece jacket, white blouse and green vest, brown skirt, and a plaid blanket over her legs to cover her “feet”. She was still asleep, though she had roused enough as I was dressing her to look blearily at me and ask “Who be ye?” in a husky soprano.
“A friend,” I had responded. I’m not sure she understood, but she had nodded sagely at that,