Dear Muse (Those Whom the Gods Wish to Destroy Book 1) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Shawn Mackey
compelled to eat the horse after being forced to put her down. The others joined in while discussing their findings.
Upon burying the bones of Bellicose, Luther cast the first vote to occupy the island. The territory, rich in resources and generally habitable terrain, would be adequate in settling a small town. With the means in their favor, it was a matter of putting their ideas to a test. The yearly celebration sheds any doubt regarding the town’s prosperity. It now doubles as a tribute to the missing Luther, whose declaration to put their plan into action gave the others courage to face potential failure.
That is why we begin each feast with horsemeat. Will this tradition end with the passing of Arthur and Paul? The latter, husband to Hilda, is a thread away from dementia. The man functioned as a mentor to Arthur and Luther, refusing his share of leadership because of old age, though I would also assume it was to honor his pupils. According to my uncle, Paul was something of a sage, a jack of all trades in terms of knowledge. A shame his mind is withering with his decrepit body.
The mayor, on the other hand, will be around in the foreseeable future. Though we may discard the effigy when it crumbles in a few decades, we will continue to eat horsemeat for as long as the town persists.
Six months after the festival, marking the date of the town’s official occupancy, we celebrate with the exchange of gifts. However, there is a twist to spice it up! Six gifts of exquisite quality are put up in two contests. One is a physical trial, and the other of wit.
The first competition consists of three races: by foot, horseback, and wood chopping. The second competition consists of three trials: riddles, storytelling, and trivia. The winner of each collects a prize. I won all three of the second competition during my first year. My uncle, one of the judges, told me he would enter next year unless I competed in the first competition as well. Since Hilda’s brains went stale, I will probably be asked to judge. So much for his challenge!
The prizes differ between competitions. The first: shoes, a saddle, and an axe. The second: a hat, a cross, and a rabbit’s foot. I don my fox skin cap, write next to my holy cross, and wear the rabbit’s foot around my neck. I have only attended one of these contests, so I do not know if the prizes vary from year to year. Gifts are exchanged between family members, but these are far from extravagant. A few exchange with friends, usually related to their trade.
These are the two main holidays. Since the town has continued to thrive without many obstacles, I have no doubt we will continue to find more ways to celebrate our good fortune. And perhaps the bad, as well.
On an unrelated note, I have the first week of study planned. I shared the preparations with my uncle, and he insists that it will take the students at least a month to absorb so much. I hope he is correct. It is a tedious task meant for one more nurturing than myself. I have, once again, been questioning my qualifications. True, a former nanny and a budding scholar seems a perfect fit. Unfortunately, no amount of knowledge can compare to a disciplined patience. I should practice Hilda’s approving nod and genial smile.
I am also set to marry Aiden in three days. My uncle and Father have volunteered to build us our own cottage. With the help of Aiden and his father, they may finish within a month. Soon enough, we will have our own cozy living space. I can face this without fear. On the contrary, I look forward to spending more time with Aiden.
Further expectations may need to be fulfilled. These are a distant, yet inevitable future. I look to those days with dread. Is the rejection of motherhood a product of a sick mind? I must answer affirmatively, though it hurts to do so. But to answer in such a way, I further question. What went wrong? When did it go wrong? How did it go wrong? Dwelling on the subject makes me queasy to the
Upon burying the bones of Bellicose, Luther cast the first vote to occupy the island. The territory, rich in resources and generally habitable terrain, would be adequate in settling a small town. With the means in their favor, it was a matter of putting their ideas to a test. The yearly celebration sheds any doubt regarding the town’s prosperity. It now doubles as a tribute to the missing Luther, whose declaration to put their plan into action gave the others courage to face potential failure.
That is why we begin each feast with horsemeat. Will this tradition end with the passing of Arthur and Paul? The latter, husband to Hilda, is a thread away from dementia. The man functioned as a mentor to Arthur and Luther, refusing his share of leadership because of old age, though I would also assume it was to honor his pupils. According to my uncle, Paul was something of a sage, a jack of all trades in terms of knowledge. A shame his mind is withering with his decrepit body.
The mayor, on the other hand, will be around in the foreseeable future. Though we may discard the effigy when it crumbles in a few decades, we will continue to eat horsemeat for as long as the town persists.
Six months after the festival, marking the date of the town’s official occupancy, we celebrate with the exchange of gifts. However, there is a twist to spice it up! Six gifts of exquisite quality are put up in two contests. One is a physical trial, and the other of wit.
The first competition consists of three races: by foot, horseback, and wood chopping. The second competition consists of three trials: riddles, storytelling, and trivia. The winner of each collects a prize. I won all three of the second competition during my first year. My uncle, one of the judges, told me he would enter next year unless I competed in the first competition as well. Since Hilda’s brains went stale, I will probably be asked to judge. So much for his challenge!
The prizes differ between competitions. The first: shoes, a saddle, and an axe. The second: a hat, a cross, and a rabbit’s foot. I don my fox skin cap, write next to my holy cross, and wear the rabbit’s foot around my neck. I have only attended one of these contests, so I do not know if the prizes vary from year to year. Gifts are exchanged between family members, but these are far from extravagant. A few exchange with friends, usually related to their trade.
These are the two main holidays. Since the town has continued to thrive without many obstacles, I have no doubt we will continue to find more ways to celebrate our good fortune. And perhaps the bad, as well.
On an unrelated note, I have the first week of study planned. I shared the preparations with my uncle, and he insists that it will take the students at least a month to absorb so much. I hope he is correct. It is a tedious task meant for one more nurturing than myself. I have, once again, been questioning my qualifications. True, a former nanny and a budding scholar seems a perfect fit. Unfortunately, no amount of knowledge can compare to a disciplined patience. I should practice Hilda’s approving nod and genial smile.
I am also set to marry Aiden in three days. My uncle and Father have volunteered to build us our own cottage. With the help of Aiden and his father, they may finish within a month. Soon enough, we will have our own cozy living space. I can face this without fear. On the contrary, I look forward to spending more time with Aiden.
Further expectations may need to be fulfilled. These are a distant, yet inevitable future. I look to those days with dread. Is the rejection of motherhood a product of a sick mind? I must answer affirmatively, though it hurts to do so. But to answer in such a way, I further question. What went wrong? When did it go wrong? How did it go wrong? Dwelling on the subject makes me queasy to the
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