Sarah Danaher
Bio
I enjoy writing for fun. I like to write for several genres including fantasy, poetry, and dystopian, but I am open to trying other genres too. It has been a source of stress relief from my busy life.
Stories (253)
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When The Land Was Flat. Top Story - July 2023.
To my son, whom I will tell a great story. My father told me, you will tell your son when you are older. It was an excellent time for the Giants and many tribes of them. They were said to be upwards of fifteen feet tall and towered into the clouds. They were living in the flat lands and lived peacefully for a while. Each took care of their own and respected the other's territory. Each tribe had a great leader that kept control of the lands. They farmed with seeds the size of man today. Their fields were vast, with giant crops that almost reached the sky.
By Sarah Danaher3 years ago in Fiction
The Lost Years to be Written
In a world with so little understanding, The Middle Ages were left in the dark, but were they? Old books have always amused me. It was a delicacy of the aristocracy of Lords and Ladies. I would instead create the very books that will be found later. Of course, people have yet to learn who the makers were. To write a secret accurate account of the times. So many were uneducated then and wanted to see if history needed to include something. I would have to be married, even just for convenience. Women's rights were nonexistent in Christian Europe. So, I will have to help him or even run things. Women were not of high status, even if they were royal.
By Sarah Danaher3 years ago in History
The Stolen Cookies
Cookies went missing, and others were found with tiny bite marks. The little bandit was nowhere to be seen. There were no witnesses to the crime except the cat. The cat was not talking. She returns to the scene of the crime and looks at the evidence. The cookies were not at the same level, but a chair was moved to the counter. The lid was sitting on the side of the jar. Little cookie crumbs gathered on the floor next to the muddy footprints. Little footprints of mud set a track right to the cookie jar. Mom was changing over the laundry, leaving the kitchen clear. The investigation is on for the cookie thief. Mom followed the footprints to the toy room without seeing the suspect. The impressions continue to the living room, but yet no suspect appears. Little mud stains led to the bedroom, and a small child playing with toys.
By Sarah Danaher3 years ago in Fiction
A Beautiful Place to Die
The blustering breeze blew across the untamed land. Its mighty winds had blown since a man had ever been there. The hike could have been more rigorous but very pretty. The streams flowed everywhere, with creatures to follow. The rigid trees stand guard as one walks by the lower levels of the mountains. Claire could not stop taking pictures of the seamless, never-ending nature. Finally, She could relax from her hectic life. Claire sat completely calm, absorbing the sounds around her. The bubbling stream made a nice resting spot for a short break on the long hike.
By Sarah Danaher3 years ago in Art
