| Chet Flash wuz here |
Circulation: 197,891,060 |
Issue: 1051 | 13th day of Awakening, Y28 |
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New Series
 | Things ChangeMy life is close to perfect. I'm a purple Kacheek, I have a white Faellie named Fluffy, I live in a pretty big NeoHome, and I have so many Usuki toys that people beg to come over and play with me.
by purplepineapplexx |
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"A Bouquet of Sunflowers" by likelife96
The life of a squire was often too busy for Valentine's Day, but this year, there was nothing to do. Jeran's master was out on an errand; Hope River was boringly idyllic; and his friends were all dedicated to their loves, even Danner, who had managed by some strange faerie curse to find himself a Valentine.
Before heading out to his little date, Danner gave him a bouquet of sunflowers. "Here," he said, "I patched this up from my admirers. Figured you'd need help to put it to good use."
Jeran scoffed, wished him well, and went back to practising his combat forms. The bouquet lay on the wooden bench, the gynoecia of the sunflowers pointed straight at him like insectoid eyes until at last he became tired of his bee-like audience of one.
He resolved to rid himself of it. Valentine's Day couldn't have been that difficult, especially as an out-of-towner. He simply needed to find someone alone, hand them the flowers, and mysteriously walk off into the sunset with a wish for a happy holiday.
Even so, those he would have deemed prospective candidates--a scrambling, forgetful spouse, an entrepreneurial child selling wildflowers, a lone elderly widower, and other filter-feeding creatures of Valentine's Day--simply did not exist on this chilly afternoon. Everyone was either paired up or in with a group of their friends.
It was not until he traversed a wooden bridge past a small distributary that he found a candidate. The bridge was an inlet into the western part of the town, oft-traversed because it was the location of the town's smiths. The forges were already dark, and there was none of that familiar hammering or breathing.
Other Stories
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 Think Pink: A Seeker's Valentine
The eager scratching of a quill was the only sound emanating from Professor Lambert's desk as he finished the first draft of his most recent P3 biology manuscript.
by drziggs |
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