Timyd

"Isn't that Jon? Over here, young man! Any news from the Hill?" The trader waved his hand as a greeting from behind the fish stall as a boy rode through the market square. Jon nodded his head and smiled, but didn't hold his mare. "Good morning, sir", he greeted the trader while riding by. "Not much worth mentioning. Everything's fine." "Fortifications are in good condition? The wall can't be as tall as ours, though, can it?" "Of course not." "And that's how it should be. You can't even smell the sea from there! What would young master like today? Cod, herring? Roach?" Jon shook his head and guided his mount calmly onward. "Thank you, no

"You have any cheese?" I switched my empty wallet from hand to hand, heading for the direction I had come from even though it was the wrong way. The fox was peeking out of the pocket I used to keep my wallet in. "You do, don't you?" it asked in an encouraging tone. I crossed the road. "No. I don't have any cheese", I said. "You should get some." "I wasn't going to get any cheese today. I was going to get something quite different." I reached the park I had come through. I put the fox down on a park bench and stuffed my wallet into its pocket. Then I carefully sat down on the damp bench, watching not to sit on the fox. "You should get

Seventeen years, two months and nine days ago the feeling of not having anything to read started bothering Mr Moss. This had nothing to do with the fact that he was genuinely interested in banana milkshake, so no matter the colour of Queen Elizabeth's handkerchiefs, there was no uncertainty of that it was going to rain on Tuesday. It was important for a man of Mr Moss' age to be certain of things. There were too many reckless people in the world that spent their time digging holes to his breakfast cheese and complaining about that same old news reporter's dry coughing on the only channel broadcasted everywhere in the world. Not to mention tha