Joffrey was on his way to the throne room. As king, he had many responsibilities, and today he would be helping the smallfolk with their petty complaints.
Again. It was so dull, their lives so pointless. I don't understand how they can live like that. If I were like them, I'd want to die.
Perhaps he would help some of them today, he thought. Help them end their miserable existence.
Suddenly, heat and orange light surrounded him. He fell, dazed, to the floor.
A few moments passed, and he started to be able to focus a bit better.
The ground was rough now. Where am I? Mother? What's happening?
Suddenly, the ground thundered. A mountain of rough fabric moved towards him.
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.15 seconds at 12:59pm on Nov 22, 2024 via server WEBX2.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author