Tashia’s eyes flickered
tavern lights burnt low
the gaze
once beheld her lover now
burned with scorn
and shame. The corner
table, rickety old chair
sagging wall
all that held him from the floor
his ale mug empty, smelled like
he’d emptied the cellar
his head hung disbelieving, his
bloodshot eyes fixed on her fire
Tashia raised the axe over her
head and prepared to swing

Somewhere in Faerun a woman grinds an axe
Started by Pirengle, Aug 13 2004 04:14 PM
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