Village Stories

In the quiet corners of a forgotten village, where cobblestone paths crumbled under bare feet and chimneys exhaled tired wisps of smoke, lived Adelaine. Her days began with the sun slicing through the thin curtains of her single-room cottage and ended under a quilt patched with memories of colder winters. But her heart was never truly there. Adelaine often sat by the window, her gaze fixed on the horizon, where she imagin...

It was that time of year again, midsummer. One of the highlights of the year for me is our little village fair. We always seem to get the weather as well. I think once in the last ten years we had rain. It was only a little shower though and was soon gone. In the middle of the village green, they set up a marquee. People from the village bring along their flowers to show. The best flowers get a certificate and a rosette....

The Muse (Raanana, March 31, 2019) I feel a bitter pleasure in remembering that day In the forest outside our small village. I was walking down a leafy path Toward the little lake where I would sit By the water with my back against a smooth rock To make some modest sketches And write what came to me. Down the shore a ways The woman sat as was her wont Without a stitch of clothing on her Back against the generous trunk of...

Chapter 13 Secrets I Did Not Know About The next morning we ride out – me on my faithful Sarji, Iris on his Chirita, a playful black mare with a white spot on her forehead and Henessada on a grey horse of an unknown name. Not to mention Immaul, who quickly got in touch with our prophet, and hangs over her, communicating constantly. Somehow they have a lot to talk about and they are very secretive. We must hurry to Tustrid...

Everyone in the village liked Raffi- the friendly mongrel dog who lived near the bus station, in an improvised kennel made of wooden crates. Though not pure- blooded, Raffi looked impressive, maybe because he had gotten many of the genes of his granny – karakachan dog with a pedigree. Everyone knew Raffi and many fed him regularly so he had managed to pick up flesh. After his owner died three years ago, Raffi started roam...

I Hear Sirens – Lots and Lots of Sirens It’s 4 a.m. on Monday morning, June 25 th , 2012, and I am awake. Wide awake – and I don’t like it. Not being an early morning person, everyone in this house knows to leave me be until I crawl out of my haven of rest on my own. Unless I happen to be leaving really early to go on a vacation somewhere, or to a yard sale I can’t resist, which is always a welcome change, I never get up...