Explore stories tagged with historicalfiction on Nightscribe and discover reads shaped by this mood, theme, or genre.
There was a time before history. Before words. Before sanity.
The widow, Laura, walked into the garden. Cracked Stone walls surrounded her, their green vines slithering toward bushes plump with blood-red berries. At the center of the garden stood a rectangular stone basin shaped like an angel. It knelt before the pool as if to deliver water from its mouth. Yet what flowed was bleak black water, filled with sticks and the smal bodies of dying insects. When she was younger, she remembered tossing coins and watching them sink into the water's darkness.…
Adventure. Adventure is what I craved. I wanted to gain the fruits of life that I had so long been denied in my youth—and, in those days, those fruits could be found and plucked in the American West. But if I had a hint of what would happen to me and my boys when I found that adventure, it would’ve made me never want to leave civilization...
My wife has been buried in the old graveyard at Killevy, under Slieve Gullion, since the 9th of October 2025.
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