Monarchs Glen

The sun has grown darker these last few decades Mellanor thought to himself, leaning his weight onto his cane, what had once been a clawed table leg, the spotted paint of the leopard it had once helped mimic still visible in the warped and cracked wood, although the paint on the improvised handle h...

A sliver of sunlight found its way through a knothole in the wooden wall, passed its way through the first floor room that smelled strongly of dirt and sheep, and stabbed directly into the just-opened eyes of an old man, whose pained groan, a wheesy, raspy sound that escaped his throat, made clear t...