Faen’s True Purpose_Rebecca_A Peek from the Experience Age_Shackled
Catalog Guide:
Faen’s True Purpose
In a beautiful glade, deep within the forest of Midenearth, lives a race of wood elves. The wood elves are a graceful people, some very tall about six feet in height, and of fair hair, with long pointed ears. They have keen eye sight and hearing. Their reflexes are swift, and can be soft footed, so as not to alert those they walk near. Elves make wonderful hunters, gatherers, herbalists, and healers. They love all creatures of the forests, and have deep respect for nature. It is their way to use all parts of an animal in the hunt, to provide for the rest of city. On a particularly sunny d...
Rebecca
Her eyes are now a dull, glassy pale blue. No longer the bewitching deep green they once were, making me think on a pair of emeralds glimmering and polished. Her hair, frazzled and dusty. No longer the luminous copper ringlets they once were. But her cheeks are still rosy. Freckled. Beneath the dust with a smear and a bit of spit. Her complexion a dewy pale gleam. There www.onedoor.ccremains, from all the years gone by, those cracks where my grandmother expertly glued her leg back together for me. It was told to me then that pretty dolls are hardly for playing with. But once, though I had played with her no...
A Peek from the Experience Age
We have moved on from the Information Age and are now in the Experience Age, where what one does not feel or share does not count. Therefore, I share the glimpse of my thoughts on why we are yet to appreciate fully, a great Kenyan who not so long ago lived among us; how much the passage of time can make us reflect and understand what was not obvious just a few years ago.It is a Tuesday morning, and I have to attend a meeting in Thika. With only 50 minutes to go, I get into my car in Kilimani and race towards Thika road. I encounter a huge traffic jam after exiting Riverside Drive and have to n...
Shackled
Mother had dragged me to many weddings in my lifetime. Sometimes it was a friend of hers. Sometimes it was a relative of fathers. Sometimes it was a friend of a cousin of a friend’s friend.Today was no different. I still had to sacrifice my Saturday sleep. I still had to empty my wallet for clothes and gifts. I still had to squeeze into an Ankara dress worth two months of salary. But this time, it was my sister dragging me to the wedding.We arrived three hours early to help the bride prepare. No, let me rephrase that. My little sister, Ngozi, hauled my half-sleeping form into the backseat of a...