A semi-barbaric king devises a semi-barabaric (but entirely fair) method of criminal trial involving two doors, a beautiful lady and a very hungry tiger.

Mimosa Mitchell was an 85-year-old “pillar of the community” and matriarch of one of the most prominent families in Petunia Springs.

Zena could hardly believe that she was on a plane, gazing down over the North Island. Everything she knew about New Zealand came from Luke’s photographs and postcards: sparkling lagoons, snow-capped mountains and silver ferns.

When a friend asks Ethan to test out his new navigation app for a journey across the country, Ethan happily obliges. However, as with most new apps, it's not uncommon to run into a few bugs along the way.

That afternoon, she still believed that her father had not meant what he had done. Once the black cloud had lifted, as it always did, he would come to his senses and beg Mum’s forgiveness.

The thunder in the rolling blanket of clouds marked a season of cleansing, a time of remembrance. It was also a time of death. The Sailor knew that well.

I had known Bill for five years but had never seen him outside the office. “Don’t you find that strange?” Annie asked me one evening.

Crib Goch is the hardest route up Snowden, it’s classed as a grade one scramble, which means that you can’t, or shouldn’t, do it in weekend sneakers, although I’ve seen worse.

Once there was a man named Frederick Alarcy who lived and died. He left a widow and two strong sons, and they lived through their grief on the slopes of Broken Pine Tor

“I heard there’s a Laok in town! Where is he?” Velmar had just raised a frothing mug to his lips when the Dwarf entered. To a novice Laok, such words might’ve caused concern.

Perhaps I even saw it as a foretaste of things to come: the hopefully not-too-distant days when my destiny would be fulfilled, and I’d be a key inhabitant, one of the new history makers.

Corporal Earnest Goodheart is crouched in a ditch on the edge of an orchard between Dunkirk and De Panne. It’s 28th May 1940, just a day into the evacuations.

Knowing the day, you will die is strange. It filled me with a sort of anxious expectance until today. Now I just want it to be over with.

He wondered if he died there, would he grow into the poplar and live forever towering over the valley? It appealed to him, but dying could wait. At sixteen, life offered too much.

“I got a call this morning. My dad…” And Martin had explained the situation, as best he could. He wanted to see his father one last time. He wanted Joel to see his grandfather.

There was a long conversation then, and many qualifications and a great deal of sympathy; but the long and short of it was that I had aggressive macular degeneration, which is a fancy way of saying: I was going blind.

After lunch the family sat on the back porch chatting leisurely, watching who was walking down the street, and speaking to those they knew.

I asked my mother once when I was old enough to figure things out if I was an accident. She smiled and said no, more of an afterthought.

The aftermath of the collision was silent and haunting. One car was on its side with crippled wheels spinning; the other was off the road in a shallow ditch.

The rain fell on him as he died and kept on well after he was dead.