The Well of Refuge

Thirsting, even to the point of death, for my well has run dry. There is a well, but the journey is far, down a rocky path where enemies hide in the cliffs waiting to kill. To live, the only option is to risk destroying my flesh to gather the life-giving water, so I...

The Dead End Journey

For, some people where the road ends marks the spot to turn around and go back. Not me, all my life the dead-end road was where the journey began. The point where the worn path narrowed, meeting what appeared to be an impassable gauntlet, that was, and is still, where...