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In April, I posted my thousandth post on this blog. To celebrate, I will share here all my short stories. Every couple of weeks, I’ll be posting one story from my celebrated Exciting Destinies series for you to enjoy. With over 30 stories so far, I hope you’ll have lots of fun in the coming months!

This week, it’s Heavy Sits the Frown from You’re In For A Ride. With the midterm elections taking place tomorrow, I find this short story quite an appropriate one.

Click here to read some more free stories.

Heavy Sits the Frown

Crown | Istomedia web database and multimedia design - σχεδίαση ιστοσελίδων, βάσεις δεδομένων, πολυμέσα

Image: Pixabay

The farm boy setting up the festive decorations steals a look at the castle. Over its palisade, he can make out the mighty king pacing the balcony. The lad stops tying up the ribbons on the maypole for a moment and shelters his eyes from the scorching midday sun, a deep frown between them. He wipes dripping sweat from his brow as his eyes set upon their monarch. His heart fills with envy.

What he wouldn’t give to sit upon the keep’s massive walls. To not waste his existence in mindless, repetitive chores at the farm all day and pointless drinking with the lads in the evening. To live an important life, to rule the land, or at least sit at the round table where all important decisions are made. To be important.

Short stories divider | From the blog of Nicholas C. Rossis, author of science fiction, the Pearseus epic fantasy series and children's book

The mighty king takes a break from endless war plans to steal a look at the festive preparations below. In the courtyard, he can make out a handsome lad setting up some ribbons around a maypole. The older man stops pacing the balcony for a moment. He squints, his eyes set upon his subject. Deep lines scar his brow. His heart fills with envy.

What he wouldn’t give to be free from the castle’s oppressive walls. To not waste his existence worrying where the next threat would come from. To not fear the whispers in the dark, the cloaked dagger, the poison in the wine. To live free, in a simple village or, even better, a distant farm. To toil the fields in the morning and play drinking games with the lads in the evenings. To live a simple life, away from the round table where life and death decisions are made. To be unimportant.