I was supposed to be asleep, along with the rest of the guests at the Duchess’s house party. From the sounds I heard behind several doors I passed, other guests were also awake, and many in rooms other than those allocated to them. If what I had to do had been less important, less urgent, …
I can't even remember what this exercise was supposed to achieve... The house didn’t like her, Susanna was sure of it, which was upsetting, because it was a lovely house. And yet, its dislike of her dogged every moment of her stay. The way the hallway rug seemed to fold itself up, just enough for …
James had known kids, especially little boys, were active, but in the way he knew crocodiles were dangerous without ever actually encountering one. Now he was not only encountering a young boy, he was supposedly parenting the poor kid. Although, maybe typhoon would be a better descriptor, one that merged with a tsunami at bath …
This is a solo journalling RPG with a bit of a darker bent. I am the proprietor of the last teashop. Not the only tea shop left in the world, simply the last one. My clientele is made up entirely of the newly dead, pausing for one last brew before crossing over into whatever comes …
Rowena sat in her solar, satisfied but nervous. The Dowager Duchess of Gransmere had arrived, and was getting settled, along with her various servants and adjuncts. She would be joining Rowena for herbal tea and sweet-cakes shortly. Mistress Blackwood had quailed at the task of preparing for such a visit in less than a day, …
Matthew bumbled in before Cadan could speak. “Now lass, I don’t know what that’s about, but we’d miss you sorely if you didn’t come home.” Sarah added. “And Martha needs practice and guidance before we’ll be sending her to trade on behalf of the village.” “And yet you’ll send me.” Matthew looked confused. “Aye?” “I’ve …
This continues a story I was playing with a while ago: Wave and Source Rowena headed for the stairs to the solar, to summon the housekeeper, Mistress Blackwood, and to start packing. The sound of horses hooves in the courtyard made her pause. Had Geoffrey returned? Had he remembered his wife after all? She moved …
“Dob.” “Cat.” “Dob!” “It a cat!” “Dob! Dob! Dob!” What had possessed her sister-in-law to give birth to children only twelve months apart? Vikki peered over two small shoulders to see the picture they were arguing about. “Actually, that’s a tiger. It’s a very big kind of cat, even bigger than a dog.” Three-year-old Briony …
Caleb was eight and loved the stars. He could point you to Venus, then tell you how it was possible to know it wasn’t Mars. He could spot the Big Dipper, and then show you how it turned into the tail and hindquarters of the Great Bear At Christmas, his older sister, Petra, the best …
She circled the room, peering and tweaking at the machines she passed, trying to make sense of them, trying to see what they did, and why, and how, and failing at every turn. “It’s not fair. There has to be a way of making use of these and making the village better.” Cadan watched her …
The DNA of Stories 