She paused, coldly gazing at the crowds beyond the dais. She was small, but the submissive deference of her guards and acolytes made clear to all that it was she who ruled this place.
When I turned 34, I decided to write a series of short stories. The only catch? Each story had to be 34 words. 34 years, 34 words. No more, no less. These are the fruits.