Just trying to write a little on the side to see if anything can come of it.
The lonely seaside village, nestled in the rough outcropping of rocks along the protected bay, swayed in the stillness of the dawn. The waves came with the tides and crashed the misty waters across the breaks in the old paving stones. Generations of waters had shined and polished the stones as smooth as glass. The waters dancing across the morning sunrise, they sparked their mysteries to those who would approach. The mysteries that only those who know the sea, those that have lived the sea, truly know.
She sat alone in the dark, in the early morning hours. Just listening. It was her time of the day. Before the stresses of the day weighed down on her shoulders. She stared out over the ocean, watching, and listening to the waves roll over the beach. The water glistening and sparking as the sun just began to crest over the horizon. The world, slowly coming to life in the break of day. The birds had been singing throughout the still darkness, but now the cresting sun shown over their wings as they glided throughout the crisp morning air.
She stood over the ovens; the heat was blistering. But she took some sense of pride in the work. Thinking back on her earlier years she never would have thought her life would land here. Swelting over and in ovens, she melted into the work. Today she was making crisp tarts from apples that the men had gathered from the orchards. The banquet was planned for two days from now, and she was tasked by her masters to cook for the festivities.
She looked at the ground, entirely dejected. “You know he will be back Brutus.” “Maybe, Clarissa,” said Brutus. She sniffled. Brutus could barely look her in the eye, the sorrow truly did eat away at him. “He always comes back, Brutus. You know this. He comes here and terrorizes us. And what can we possibly do about it!”
The World Grows Smaller as Networks Grow Larger
We live in a world that is entirely immersed now in the digital reality. The common catch phrase the last several years has been digital transformation, as every business tries to adapt and grow into a revolving digital world. The simple truth is that the world is forever growing smaller, and this is further accomplished by every communication line we dig into the ground.
The Ashen Horse
The dead banker body was completely lifeless. Her blood slowly seeping into the ground. The grass appeared slightly dry, and it actually looked like it welcomed the steady flow of blood that was leaching around it. The woman watched a flower that the banker had somehow missed when she collapsed, appear to open it’s leaves and pedals as the blood oozed near it. Interesting. She didn’t know if she had ever taken the time to observe that before.
He Had No Name
Slay-Wolf-of-Night rose in the early morning, the chill still very real but less oppressive than it had been on the heights. He still longed for the coat, but the cold was not as bitter as it had been. He should have already been back with his people, but the travel was slow. It had been three days now since he had seen the corpse of the wolf he had killed.
The Ashen Horse
They landed in ATL; the landing so slick it was like glancing on ice. Tim was so impressed he almost clapped. He didn’t travel too much, but he traveled enough to appreciate the pilot’s skill. Check off flying expertise for this guy. He grouped up with the rest of the team at baggage claim.