He’d had them knock down the wall where his brother’s sword had hung. Knock it down and break it into chunks fit for building a cairn. It seemed fitting somehow. The longhouse was a ruin anyway.
Uther watched while they fit the last of the jagged blocks into place. The noise of the knappers and leather workers shouting behind him made him grind his teeth in frustration. Couldn’t they give him just a few moments of quiet? He knew it was war time, but they were putting his brother to rest. There would always be war. Today should be a time to reflect.
bits of writing
Writing Prompt: Then came the hackers, or that’s what I thought.
Then came the hackers, or so she thought.
In truth, the numbers were off. She spent some time looking the numbers over before finally deciding that it was a waste of time. The truth was that it was almost always ghosts. Revenants of centuries past, mucking about in the systems. She sighed, finger hovering over the Delete key. She hated removing them. They seemed so lonely and desperate for contact.
Advent
It was Advent and the Dollbearers had not come this year.
Outside the snow drifted down, a white curtain blotting the kaleidoscope sky. The second hand on the clock spent an eternity sweeping to its next station. From downstairs, the sounds of shrieks and jingle bells went on.
The wheezing noises were from under the bed this time. Jewel turned her head, damp curls pressing into even damper pillow. She swallowed past the bright terror in her throat. Carefully she dangled the ha’penny over the edge and let it drop. There was a satisfied sigh.
“’tis the Season” it whispered.
The Process 