Tithe for the Autumn Flowers
By Ronel Janse van Vuuren
Flecks of rust on the autumn flowers told her a story she didn’t want to hear. Mae closed her eyes tightly, but it didn’t help. Visions of what had happened there filled her entire being.
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What do you think of this story? In its Afrikaans incarnation, it won a competition on INK. Are you enjoying the stories about Faerie? Check out my short story collection “Once…” to read more faery tales.
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