The Copperpot Inn: A Tax-collector Approaches part 2

'Please…one moment…I Just need…one moment.' Four droplets of rain fell lightly against a cutting of sail cloth, pulled taught over the flour cart of Helga Miller. The mass of clouds overhead burgeoned with rain and grew heavy as they approached. The morning was held in a sullen kind of mood, a greyness that lived in … Continue reading The Copperpot Inn: A Tax-collector Approaches part 2 →

The Copperpot Inn: A Highwayman’s First Shift

In a quiet glade of rolling meadow, lay a peaceful lane whose serenity made the local library sound like a blacksmithy. Such was the serenity held within of this nook of draping willow, that travellers could not help but to pause here, breathing in the air and wishing that there was a teahouse nearby to … Continue reading The Copperpot Inn: A Highwayman’s First Shift →