All tagged drabble
Rhiannon laid on the grass grieving her grandmother’s passing. Each memory was painful, yet crystal clear in her mind.
As her tears fell, three birds circled while singing the most beautiful song. Were they a sign from beyond? Rhiannon listened; her grief was replaced with joy and bliss.
What did Gran sound like? What did she look like?
King Vortigern ordered his finest stone masons, iron workers and architects to build a fortress on a hill to watch for Saxon invaders. Each morning, the previous days’ work lay in ruins. Was it the enemy? Or magic? Some said the site was cursed; no building could stand on its precipice.
We missed our appointment after lingering at a fixer-upper full of possibilities, some magnificent, others terrifying. The agent made us wait outside. The old couple two doors down told us that he’d lived in the house since the 1940s. We didn’t know at the time that the couple would become our neighbors. The house had white walls and grey carpets (freshly steamed), skylight, chrome cooker, and views of the hills from the garden.
The rocky banks for the Nam Song are dotted with women, girls, their buckets… dumping content on stones doubling as washboards. Barefoot and laughing — they slap, whack, splash.
