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Creative Writing: The Handmaid's Tale

Decent Essays

The life of a knight wasn't always easy, Mordred thought as he raised his collar to escape the chill that travelled down his back. Even though there was almost no wind tonight, it was freezing. Camelot covered in a thick layer of snow, and beyond these walls it was impenetrable. But a knight shouldn't let himself be surprised by the weather, Mordred knew. It was his duty to stand guard in the royal gardens tonight, snow or not.

He shivered some more, his eyes falling on a large pine tree. It was the centre of the gardens, and Queen Guinevere's favourite place in summer. The magnificent tree swayed a little, and before Mordred could blink, a small light came out of nowhere. It wavered in the air for a moment and landed in the tree top, lightening

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