I totally support other authors, who like me, write for the sheer pleasure of the task. This sight has a lot of talent. Many of yet have not made it to the main stream reading lists. This particular story is awesome. I hope you will find the time to read it. I was turned on to it by my good friend Andrew.
Darkest night.
Sheets of rain descend on the thatch of the inn and seek to breach its ancient barrier. Most of the water is carried down the slope and splashes on the stone and mud below. Some however finds gaps in the woven reed and forms into rivulets that twist as they descend. They steer an erratic course to penetrate through to the room below.
The pretty girl hitches up her skirt and moves from behind the bar carrying a bucket to catch the latest of many such intrusions. One thin stream falls from the thatch and finds an oak beam. It drips suddenly onto the back of a small mouse that shakes itself and scurries along the beam to a more secure perch. The creature’s bright eyes regard the scene below and its nose twitches as it peers through the candlelight and studies the old man.
Read more: Short Story: The Scent Of Elsewhere | Shortbread
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