This month’s song fic is Little Heaven by Toad the Wet Sprocket. Two summers ago, the wonderful Kayleigh Jones and I went to Detroit to see one of our bucket list concerts – Counting Crows. (Laugh if you want, I will always love them – unapologetically.) And Toad opened for them, so that was especially awesome. Happily, both bands still sounded fantastic.
Emily slammed the cupboard door, listening to the satisfying rattle of glassware inside.
Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she turned and her heart momentarily leapt into her throat at the sight of the dark hooded figure looming in the doorway.
“The fire had come,” he intoned. “Not for the end of days. Not for the faithless ones.
Not for vision understood. Burns because it has to burn.”
“Seriously, Cody?! Just do your fucking chores like mom asked. I’m sick of picking up your slack.”
“I am a dark mage. Come to burn all.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Just vacuum the living room.”
He raised his extended arms in her direction. “I am a dark mage. Come to–“
“Fine. You’re a dark mage. A home schooled dark mage. Just fucking vacuum, already.