AngelaM

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I have 7 stories published in 2 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 5059 times

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Angela Miller

My stories

The Dying Village

The Dying Village The Mage twitched the reigns of the Lanky black and it stopped in the centre of the village square, hooves chaffing the dust into little clouds. The cowled hood moved, hidden eyes scanning the quiet houses and shops. Nothing else moved in the street, but here and there a pale face peered from a window, or a curtain twitched almost convulsively. Not even a bird sang in the bent, brown leafed trees in the centre of the square. Wrongness hung heavy in the air.

For The Temple

For the Temple Only the third sun, Esprit, remained in the sky, its watery cool light lending a subtle blue cast to the cold land below. Soon that too would vanish, sending out pale white streaks across the darkening sky as it set. Swans feathers some called them. Night itself would be short, perhaps an hour or two, but it would be bitterly cold in the darkness. Already frost sparkled in the pale light, for Esprit alone gave very little warmth.

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