Foreign Affairs: Chapter 9

Three months would be a short time to arrange such a meaningful wedding. The government in Gisland had to be contacted of course, but not before the official story was set straight with everyone who would be asked questions. The wording of the prophecy would be exactingly selected, forged on paper that looked far older…

Ain’t That Hell For Ya?

I woke in the morning as I always did. A crick in my neck from a too-soft pillow and a sore back from my too-hard bed, seasoned to perfection by a sore spot in my side where the loose mattress-spring always pokes. ‘Morning’ was, of course, a relative term. The clock read 4:30—hours yet before…