-
The sun has risen over the acropolis and the workmen are toiling again. They build a great temple to Athena, patron Goddess of Athens, to celebrate their victory over the might of Persia. It is already beautiful, a gateway to holiness. The workmen sing bawdy songs as they chip at the marble, and the wind carries…
-
The bridge is cold against my back, and the gorge at this time of night is a vast, dark emptiness. Far below me I can see headlights moving, and I can feel the river flowing slowly beside the road, between the stinking mud banks.
-
My spear arm aches. Blood and the screams of the dying surround me. There is a fresh wound that will add to the tangle of scars my sisters etched into my face in the ecstasy of the ritual of my coming-of-age. My teeth clench. I have never felt such joy.
-
Some scents walk hand in hand with memories. They hang in the air and swim into your mind unbidden. The smell of a summer meadow makes me smile, it takes me back to when I was barely more than a girl. It makes me daydream of lying in the long grass with the boy who…
-
My name’s Jack Anderson and I’m glad you’ve found your way here, to a part of the internet still unsullied by AI generated slop and shiftless con artists attempting to part you from your money. This is a blog where I plan, from time to time, to publish my fiction. At the time of writing
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
Jack of Tales 