In the middle of the forest sat a stone hut, and always from this hut came the scent of amber. Within the hut there lived what the nearby villagers believed was an old god. A god so ancient that none remembered his name, what he was the god of, or even if he was a “he.”
The Amber God, some called him. Continue reading
Stories abound. They are everywhere. Some stories are massive and glorious like a monument, a structure of marble and stained glass. Some are humble and simple like a puff of cloud or a puddle of water. And some stories–most perhaps–are somewhere in between, small, but complex, more than first meets the eye…like a feather.
Everyone has stories. Here, I will tell you some of mine.
Welcome to Storyfeather.