The murders had been simple. He’d added ten drops to the good and the Warrior King, invincible in battle, had passed.
Bread of Angels, Lead us where we are heading.
She glanced at the statue that had consumed flesh of her flesh and knew she’d earned her reward.
The fire called to her, promising to burn her clean.
To say she’d hated her son was an understatement. She saw traces of not one, but three men.
The bodies of the dead were gathered daily and dumped like soft fruit on Carrion Hill, where the crows were fat and patient.
The girl was used to abuse, yet the man riding the destrier sensed defiance as well.
Remembering the Fallen.
“Blooming West Virginia”
PAINTING BY ALLAN.
Rizla flew in an indigo cloud and rejoiced at the gift of flight. Flight was the gift she cherished.