Friday Fictioneers: Your Chariot Awaits

  “Your throne, Your Majesty!” The duke bowed and duchess curtsied. The king gazed at the perch across the moat. Light glimmered off the gilded royal seat. Rubies encrusted in the high back sparkled.  “How shall I get there?” The duke stepped back and gestured to the gleaming horse and carriage, both draped in the ornate dressings of the…

Friday Fictioneers: Precious

Precious (Fiction; 100 words) The boy bounced and strained against the belt. “Settle down, Precious. You mustn’t appear overactive.” His guardian, a middle-aged woman with deep wrinkles and a permanent odor of smoke, checked her watch again. “They could decide they don’t want you and then what? All that wasted time and effort.” He grimaced…