| Invisible Paint Brushes rock |
Circulation: 197,796,040 |
Issue: 1004 | 22nd day of Running, Y26 |
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Continued Series
 | Nuria and the Sands of Time"A thick wall of grey clouds was smeared across the sky and the temperature had dropped ever so slightly. The wind had..."
by neoghia |  | A Hero's Journey: Squire"Lotham peered at his son from across the large mahogany desk, frowning sternly with a sheaf of papers in his hands. A golden monocle was over his right eye..."
by precious_katuch14 |  | Salem of the Sway"Once morning arrived, the journey began. We made sure to pack all of the essentials that we felt we would, as well as dress with full coverage to protect us from Moltara’s heat..."
by skittleskit09 |  | Taming the Beast"We sat in an awkward silence for a moment, until Leah continued..."
by sir_serene |
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Search the Neopian Times
Headlines
"Another Faerie Festival" by starbiology
Illusen would admit she was a tad surprised when she saw the letter in her mailbox. Pressed in a clean black envelope and sealed with gaudy purple and green wax stamped into a Bartamus. The little creature could almost be called cute if it was associated with anyone else. The wax seal hides the letter’s contents, forcing her to search her house's junk drawers for an envelope knife. When she finally gets the letter open she nearly rolls her eyes. Not that there is anything particularly interesting about the contents of it. Rather, she falls into the annoyed expression because of having to go to such lengths to open something only to find that it is completely within her expectations of the sender. “You are mercifully invited” she mumbles to herself as she sits down in her breakfast nook to read the letter “to the faerie festival this year, held at Jhudora’s Cloud. If you are unable to locate the premises do not bother asking for directions, I will not account for such airheaded intruders in my home. The event ends sharply at 10, all dawdlers will be thrown out” She sets the envelope on her kitchen counter and tries not to frown. Pushes it to the furthest part of her mind and even buries it under a stack of newspapers.
Other Stories
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 Forgotten and Remembered
Illyana sat on the forest floor, running her fingers through the cool earth. It was not quite winter anymore, yet it was not quite spring yet either.
by tatyanne |
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