Grant Kininmont
Stories (3/0)
STARLING ALLEY
The lane was uneven in every possible way. The brickwork gutter ran not quite down the middle creating an uneven slant to both halves of the dog-legged little byway. Even during peak hour traffic or the busy city nights, there was never any traffic. In the window of one of the town houses that backed onto this urban capillary stood a thin woman in an old fashioned house dress. Her silver hair gathered in a hastily prepared but still perfectly shaped bun.
By Grant Kininmont3 years ago in Fiction
THE BARBARIAN & THE KING
T he ring in the curved steel as it cleared the scabbard spoke to the quality of the blade, the glare from the morning sunlight striking its edge spoke to its sharpness. The steam of his breath spoke of the coldness of the air. The speed of his movement spoke of the hone of his reflexes. The stare in his cold grey eyes spoke of his determination. The stance in his lean but powerful form spoke of his skill as a warrior.
By Grant Kininmont3 years ago in Fiction
THE TINY TITAN
Cracked. Scattered and lost. Pushed away by the rend in the path. The little ant was out searching. The dedicated soldier marching in the wild. I wondered what it was that caused to navigate so. His road was rough and covered with gaps and spidery cracks. Why was it that it came this way?
By Grant Kininmont3 years ago in Fiction