Tags » Fiction (2)
It’s not a very interesting piece, this desk. It’s the kind you buy for function, not form: it’s a generically-made one.
I use it every day, and it’s become so buried under papers and books that I barely remember what it looks like underneath. 216 more words
There lived a youthful boy with his prudent mother in a conventional cottage by their farm in a remote medieval village.
The mother cooked porridge in the morning for her son to savor; however, he did not, and proceeded to plow the farmland tediously. 44 more words