Genre Short Story. Page - 54
I wake up around about five am. The baby is crying, I hold and try to comfort her. I take the dirty pamper off her, the rash is so bad now, so i use the vaseline like I was told once ,she still crys. Maybe she is hungry, I am, and there has not been food in this house for a week.well my springtime jacket and some socks on my hands should keep me warm enough to make it to the corner store, The baby is only two months and has not ate since yesterday, I think. If only i wasnt six years old and my mom was here or least left some of the foodstamps she got from the mailman last week,BEFORE she left.
The room is small, dark and cold. The girl had no idea how she ended up there. Naked and scared, she goes to the fountain of liquid in the middle of the room for comfort--but is this liquid water or poison? Is it comfort or pain? Is there a way for her to escape the room, or is it some sort of punishment?
Born of a demon, intended to be a messiah, only later to become a madman of the forest glen, the enigmatic figure history recalls as Merlin Emrys is not who, or what you think he is. With his faithful owl Vrroch, Merlin wanders high, and low. Ever seeking, always learning. His magic, and meddling can make empires rise or fall.