Beyond The Cruzades
MY CONTRIBUTION TO THIS COLLECTION OF MEDIEVAL-THEMED SHORT STORIES.
(Client)
Andross Editora
(Services)
Writing.
Job
Scope
“On that cold, bleak night so still, Through the golden cloak, blood spill. A night of sorrow and deep despair, A blunt blade found the royal heir.”
This was one of the few literary adventures I had the courage to publish.
My short story, "The Old Rainbringer," tells the tale of an elderly bard known for his peculiar connection to the weather.
Set in a gray, muddy village, the story captures a brief moment in time where the old man disrupts the villagers' daily lives and leaves an indelible mark.
It’s a fictional narrative with a concise arc, but one that leaves room for the reader’s imagination to wander beyond its pages.
Will this rain ever stop? Will I ever find the courage and desire to publish something again?
Perhaps only the old bard holds the answer.
Beyond The Cruzades
MY CONTRIBUTION TO THIS COLLECTION OF MEDIEVAL-THEMED SHORT STORIES.
(Client)
Andross Editora
(Services)
Writing.
Job
Scope
“On that cold, bleak night so still, Through the golden cloak, blood spill. A night of sorrow and deep despair, A blunt blade found the royal heir.”
This was one of the few literary adventures I had the courage to publish.
My short story, "The Old Rainbringer," tells the tale of an elderly bard known for his peculiar connection to the weather.
Set in a gray, muddy village, the story captures a brief moment in time where the old man disrupts the villagers' daily lives and leaves an indelible mark.
It’s a fictional narrative with a concise arc, but one that leaves room for the reader’s imagination to wander beyond its pages.
Will this rain ever stop? Will I ever find the courage and desire to publish something again?
Perhaps only the old bard holds the answer.
Beyond The Cruzades
MY CONTRIBUTION TO THIS COLLECTION OF MEDIEVAL-THEMED SHORT STORIES.
(Client)
Andross Editora
(Services)
Writing.
Job
Scope
“On that cold, bleak night so still, Through the golden cloak, blood spill. A night of sorrow and deep despair, A blunt blade found the royal heir.”
This was one of the few literary adventures I had the courage to publish.
My short story, "The Old Rainbringer," tells the tale of an elderly bard known for his peculiar connection to the weather.
Set in a gray, muddy village, the story captures a brief moment in time where the old man disrupts the villagers' daily lives and leaves an indelible mark.
It’s a fictional narrative with a concise arc, but one that leaves room for the reader’s imagination to wander beyond its pages.
Will this rain ever stop? Will I ever find the courage and desire to publish something again?
Perhaps only the old bard holds the answer.