short story
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In a land far away, so far that you’d need to go by ship and wait until you reached the end of the world to find it, lived a queen who was kind and just. She had many subjects but no advisors. She lived by the principle of ‘Mother knows best’ and more often than
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This is a tale of how the furies were born. Orest was an honourable man, just, brave and kind. He was the man his regiment could count on getting them home safely. Though they had an equally just, if somewhat ineffective, lover of the good life, king…for Orest’s regiment, he was akin to a king.
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Our story begins at a King’s desperate need of a son. Though his father and forefathers were known to have taken many wives, King Sulaiman II was unmarried. Boyishly he had thought he didn’t need to submit himself to actions that the general populace indulged in. He was the King and thus, above the call
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In a forest east of the kingdom was a school meant for exceptional children. Though children only from the nobility were considered exceptional, allowances were made for “the others.” And though the others were treated with bare-minimum respect, they made up for the less than ideal circumstances by bullying the nobility thus restoring balance. Now
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It was the time of night when the heat finally dissipated into the air above and the dying embers slowly turned to a cool breeze that sent shivers up the foot that had the misfortune of straying out of that cozy blanket.
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I’m dying – let’s get that out of the way right from the outset. And before we go any further, let’s set some ground rules. A. I don’t do pity. I’m dying, get over it, I know I am. B. Don’t start a sentence with ‘have you tried…’ I don’t need no saviour. If the
tales of Suchita 