The Odyssey of Bjorn_The Fox in the Woods_Apple pie_The Rats Against the Fox
Catalog Guide:
The Odyssey of Bjorn
The Odyssey of Bjorn Suzanne Marsh 985ADThe tall ships with the red and white sails loomed on the blue horizon. Men and women began to gather near the shore of the frozen North Atlantic. The women noticed that the flotilla contained fourteen long ships, they had left with twenty five. The red and white sails bespoke of loss and widows. Wailing began as the fourteenth long ship dropped anchor. Men began to row toward the shore of from the long boats. Helga saw Bjorn before he saw her. She ran toward the smaller boat, her arms out stretched. She had been waiting for a year for Bjo...
The Fox in the Woods
She watched, awaiting the fox’s return. A cardinal flitted to land on a branch near her, chirping. To anyone else, the girl tilting her head would have been musing upon the birdsong drifting through the air, but birdsong was the last thing on the girl’s mind.“Drisk is returning now, just a few more moments,” the bird was saying.“He better have a good reason for being lwww.onedoor.ccate. He was due back hours ago, and the northern front is losing ground,” growled the girl, nervously tugging at the braid over her shoulder. Her hair was dirty, frizzy, and only those who knew her long ago knew how beau...
Apple pie
Finally! I ran around our huge garden, the grass just touching my knees, the sun was also shining brightly onto me. It was the beginning of spring! My dog, Fred chased after me, all around the place. I was FREE. Then, Fred noticed the cat and chased Walbright (the cat) and they both landed with a tremendous SPLASH! Into the little stream. Walbright just sprang away and ran indoors to mind its own business, while Fred was splashing in the water, after our long trip. I suppose I should tell you that we just moved house, and this is out new one. The garden is much bigger and near the woods...
The Rats Against the Fox
“What bloody use is it sending us out here on our own?” Said the new gunner. A young lad named Robertson. He had come from London with a fresh batch of replacements. Monty’s Eigth Army had taken a beating across the North Africa campaign. Sergeant Day had grimaced when he first saw him. Fresh faced, clean shaven. His uniform was finely pressed and his boots sparkled. Day had got him shy of them quickly. Those thick army boots got in the way of the foot pedal trigger for the 75mm cannon - their personal weapon of destruction. They found him a nice pair of suede shoes in a Cairo market. It made ...