Hello everyone! As part of Short Story Saturday, I have posted another short story, this one entitled Maiden on a Slab. Please enjoy. Also, if you haven’t already checked out my FAQ on my upcoming book, Magic Once Removed, please check that out as well. Thanks again!
His torch represented many things. Illumination. Warmth. Comfort. It also represented a potential disaster of biblical proportions. The ancient parchment he held in his free hand was as dry as British wit and a single spark would cause it to go aflame which would leave the man lost, potentially for good. in that forgotten, dank, dark labyrinth. It did not help his psyche that there were times he had to hold the blistering orange flame perilously close to the map to see its intricacies and read its ancient inscriptions that detailed how to get by the perilous puzzles that loomed.
Hello everyone! As part of Short Story Saturday, I have posted another short story, this one entitled Gregory Sole. Please enjoy. Also, if you haven’t already checked out my FAQ on my upcoming book, Magic Once Removed, please check that out as well. Thanks again!
The sounds of a metal bell echoed from the decrepit church tower throughout the old rustic town. “Darn,” the man thought to himself. “Eleven o’clock already. I’ve got to hurry.”
Mud covered his black dress pants and white button-up shirt he had ironed just that morning as he sprinted through the center of town on the previously dirt road. His heavy and clumsy steps made it increasingly difficult for him to move his legs rapidly as he struggled to pry each foot loose while maintaining a consistent stride. All that could be heard were the sloshing of his boots, his heavy breathing, and his bag that was tied over his shoulder that collided with his side and back. He prayed that the bottles that clanged in his bag would not break. The glass was relatively thick but a particularly solid collision would cause them to shatter. Periodically, he checked his vest pocket to ensure the contents within remained in place.
An owl was heard somewhere in the distance but his hoots faded quickly as the man continued his vigilant run. His legs burned. It wasn’t as if he were in bad shape, quite the contrary. His trips to the gym were a morning ritual. Still, he had several miles to cover in a short amount of time, and even for an Olympic runner, such a feat would have proved daunting. For one who did not quite have that kind of skill, the task was nearly overwhelming. Only his desire to exact justice prevented him from giving up.