‘Sire, did you dream last night as the witch foretold?,’ asked the Night Lord.
The King looked at the couriers but did not speak. His eyes lost in shadows.
‘His Highness is cursed,’ they cried, many even with real concern. Or were they the better liars, trusting no living King.
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Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.
This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.