As I gazed across the parched desert, I tried to lick my cracked lips but found my mouth as dry the desert before me. My skin was as dehydrated and wrinkly as a dried up old raisin. I scanned the desert again. Could there be any life in this dry, desolate, place? Continue reading


Lólindir Táralóm


Lólindir Táralóm crouched motionless at the top of the great sycamore tree.  Clothed in his green tunic, pants, and hat, he blended in well with leaves around him.  Observing the scene below, Lólindir trembled with rage. Continue reading