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The Stories by DAF

 Excerpt from my novel FATE.   The Arabian                        “Before we go any further, I will tell you about the Arabian … maybe the only innocent victim in the whole story of FATE.”        Silias Brack’s terrified stallion in his padded stall reared, panicked and kicked. He could smell the smoke drifting on the otherwise cane-smelling air. This act of rebellion began with the beheading of the prized stallion, a creature that represented Silias’s pride and social standing.        It was the next best thing to beheading Silias himself.        After the bloody deed was done, the horse’s severed head was gruesomely tied to the whipping post for Silias to witness from his top bedroom window.        The message did not need explaining.  ...
 Excerpt from my novel FATE.     A Rebel Father Dies                               “A mortal cannot put fate on trial, nor punish it, nor defend it … but simply coexist with it.”        Fionn’s death came quietly and without warning.        On a still morning that had the promise of a dry day in a wet week, he had risen early, as was his habit, made the turf fire in the open grate that would burn till he retired to bed, prepared a breakfast of salted porridge, a soft egg with soda bread, and strong black tea that a fly would have difficulty sinking in.        That morning was Fionn's last day in his beloved Ireland.        After breakfast, Fionn took a ramble to check the nets he had strung out in the sma...
 Excerpt from my novel FATE.                                The Promise of Eternal Bliss Beyond                                                                       It became a daily habit for Emmet to go to the waterfront and sit not too far from where his mother was blown off. He knew why, but his gut‑feeling told him to say nothing, because it would only give reason for others to gossip … as if there was not enough of that being done already.        It happened one afternoon when a sea fog was coming in to settle over the village for the night. After lighting his pipe and drawing on that sweet, rough plug he favored, he found himself looking toward the place where his mother fell, the last thought th...