I’m but a tree, hence I cannot help you. My own roots are stuck in the belly of Mother Earth, hence I cannot reach you. No eyes adorn my bark, hence I cannot cry for you.
In the year 1500, a merchant’s daughter is assaulted. Traumatised but living, she ponders the morale of men under my branches.
Writing contest #62: reincarnated as a tree.
1 Of brutalities and dissen
2 The vendor who aspired to be king
3 The mother with cold eyes
4 A farewell
5 The poe
6 Of romance and parlours
7 The altar
8 The prestige of war
9 Those distant days - 1211
10 Crying aloud - 1211
11 Regardless of all that brought terror - 1211
12 The band of soldiers
13 The child by the merchant stand
14 On the topic of raw fish - 1211
15 Young indulgence - 1211
16 As I gathered my valour - 1213
17 Of those laying upon the grass - 1213
18 Beautiful fools - 1213
19 An ineffectual struggle - 1215
20 We were but children - 1215
21 The emperor’s crown - 1220
22 The young man before me - 1220
23 Those distant nights- 1220
24 Palermo - 1220
25 When sleep fails us - 1220
26 A trinket between novelties
27 On the subject of art and history
28 The artis
29 A sibling’s cavilling
30 One day in Autumn - 1227
31 A game by the fire - 1227
32 A conspiracy of paper - 1227
33 Passing of a friend - 1227
34 On the stone floor - 1227
35 The king of Germany - 1227
36 Treason and enmity - 1228
37 Of shattered glass and wine stains - 1228
38 The accursed - 1228
39 The onset of the crusade - 1228
40 Cypruss - 1228
41 Under the doum palms - 1228
42 The wild dance of fools - 1228
43 Cynicism and chickpeas - 1229
44 Books, liquor and joviality - 1229
-1 Notice
