The story he never tells_The Hunter and the Buck_Guest room for a goddess_Mrs. O'Reilly
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The story he never tells
He heavily sighed and looked around him. The dancing tangled web of humans, the smell of sweat overpowering the stench of alcohol from the mouth of the classmate who blabbered onto his ears made him somewhat dizzy. Spending even another 5 minutes in such condition was making him feel he’d better be dead, but he had to wait. He was designated ride for the group of people he came with. He wanted, but cannot be irresponsible; however much he hated being in such a loud party. He could have spent a night wrapped up in warm duvet, reading a book which smelled like magic. He spent another fifteen min...
The Hunter and the Buck
The Hunter crouched behind the bush and lifted his bow. He cocked the arrow, power coursing through his veins, grinning at the heaviness of the weapon in his hands. The bow was black, sleek, and curved like a deadly snake. He pointed the arrow at his target and breathed in deeply through his nose. The Buck knelt its head, its magnificent horns brushing the ground as it munched on a tuft of grass pushing through the forest floor. The Hunter stared at the buck’s slender neck, at its taut shoulder muscles. It was the biggest buck he’d ever seen.Its meat would last him a good while.He tightened hi...
Guest room for a goddess
Xenia sits on the bed. Every morning at half past five, just before she goes out to milk the cow, feed the horses and water the garden, she sits on the fine down-filled cover which is wrapped in crisp, white linen. It is luxurious; fit for a goddess. In ancient Greece, extending one’s hospitality to anyone and everyone without exception —in case a god was among one’s visitors —is the principle of xenia. Her parents were both fond of all things that looked and sounded Greek. Although she was pretty sure they named her after one of the James Bond girls — Xenia, a fighter pilot and assassin in Go...
Mrs. O'Reilly
Alessia and her best friend Maria were playing in Alessia’s driveway, like they did every Saturday. They were jumping rope, smiling and laughing. Suddenly, Maria tripped and fell on the ground. The girls giggled and Alessia www.onedoor.cchelped Maria up, making sure that she was alright. “This is no time to be giggling girls,” a voice said. Alessia turned with a start, and saw Mrs. O’Reilly leaning over them. She was an older woman who lived across the street from Alessia. Her husband had died about five years ago, and ever since then, Mrs. O’Reilly had been known as the town crazy. Her bushy grey hair, bi...