I am an aspiring writer from Ontario, Canada. My field of experience and degrees are in Social Work and Political Science. I am currently working on a series of children's stories and I love to read mystery, romance, and fantasy.
Sharp, wet leaves scrape against Rafaele’s face with each step into the dark woods. The rain has ceased but the mud, like glue, makes progress impossible. The child’s cries are hoarse from hours of screaming, now but whimpers against the priest’s rough cloak. Rafaele takes that moment to kneel beneath a large fallen oak and listens. He can no longer hear the shouts from the Queen’s guard or the wails from the desperate mother. He knows that after this moment, the High Priestess will no longer accept him in the temple. Even in this mission’s success. Rafaele spits on the ground, his throat parched from the hike. He has never dared to venture this deep into the forest, no one has, for fear of encountering creatures of wings and fire. Tonight, it is their kind he seeks.
The Runaway Train-A Proposition
It was like floating in water. Perhaps a river like the one by the farm. It was not much of a farm since Papa couldn’t sell the milk for fair prices anymore. More like a wasteland of dead grass and scrawny cows. The water moved in rhythm all around her. Except it was loud. Every wave made a clack, clack, clack sound that felt like razors in her head. That was not like the farm. May’s head felt so heavy as she began to lift it from the velvet material behind her. Nausea soon followed. May could feel harsh bright light from a window to her left and muffled voices coming from her right. She was going to vomit. She must have turned green, because as she lifted her body to turn to the voices, a bucket was placed below her chin just as she had begun to retch.
Of Fire and Crowns
There were not always Dragons in the Valley… At least that is what the elders keep reminding them. Although she does not know how they could remember. Humans are not supposed to live so long, weak, and pathetic as they are. The priests claim they remember lush trees and gardens. “A land in abundance, always guarded and tended by the king’s court.”