writing
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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…
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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.
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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…
Jack of Tales 