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The baker was a simple fellow. An unbridled and unburdened mind made his work go easy in the long Summer days, and in Winter he was the merriest of them all. So, when the butcher decided to pay a visit (for he rarely did), the baker paid him all the respect and treated him with [...]

The faint glimmer of a star peeked out at them from through the canopy of the trees. The jungle was forlorn and inhibiting. Unfamiliar sounds reached them as dusk set in, and the group was afraid. Not for their lives, but of that unknown which haunted their thoughts, their emotions.

He warmed his hands by the fire, shuddering as his sopping wet clothing clung to his frozen skin. “Hrrngmff,” he attempted to say through the folds of his scarf. It was too cold to speak, too cold to even think.