The Miller's Daughter
Extract from a creative writing project I did a while ago
Full moon. Howling wolves.
The young miller’s daughter was growing used to these strange, yet comforting surroundings since she had moved to this new place with her father. They could no longer afford to continue living in moderate luxury, they now lived in a poor house, with poor surroundings. The only thing that wasn’t shrouded in darkness and mystery was the tall castle. The tall, rich, grand castle, where the king lived in luxury while the rest of the population lived like magpies. Scavenging and protecting the scraps of food they had, as though their lives depended on it. For in most cases, their lives did indeed depend on it.
Her cunning and resourcefulness had begun to grow since coming where angels fear to tread. All angels, except this one of course, as her malnourished yet gratifying figure could have come from heaven itself. If heaven had not forgotten this bleak land.