Tasks Stories

  My Master Eleanor’s Master turned from his desk to face her, his palm wide open. The jet-black colour caught Eleanor’s attention first. As if a part of the night was captured and fashioned into an object, resting now in his hand.“I told you I’d bring you a gift,” he said. His voice was stark, dry and every word carried heavy weight with it.She examined its shape. It looked like a large, round arrowhead. And like an arro...