Today's OneWord: Sisters

Seven sisters held hands before the angry king, whose face turned purple at the sight. He instructed his guards to execute them - all of them - but their halberds crumbled into dust before they could even aim their points at the women's chests. The sisters sang, their hair bristling in a sudden wind, and their words were incoherent to the monarch. But that was because he did not understand the Ancient Tongue, as true heirs to the throne were supposed to.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection

Saturday's Storyteller: "Though it had been amusing at first, the mounted deer head's constant quoting of memes was beginning to wear on us."

Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection