The air was rippled with watery sunshine. But through one small round window shone a bright brave sunbeam, clear and golden, cutting its way into the dim glow of the room. And in its cutting sat Ethlinn. She sat still, facing the window, facing the clear light, the fresh air; and a tear flowed down…
Category: Stories by Chris Thompson
Chris Thompson’s retellings of the old stories. All work copyright Chris Thompson.
The Story of Macha
Near Armagh is the green mound of mysterious Emain Macha. This is the story of its naming. In my mind I still hear the rhythmic drumming of many hooves, the thrumming of the autumn rain. The soughing of breathing beasts, wind in the pasture grass. Flashes of colour, the crimson and gold of my goods…
The Story of Sinann
The Story of Sinann In the days of dreaming when the when the Everliving Ones still walked freely among the misty mountains and green valleys of Ireland, when the soft light of enchantment still shone from every hill of the sidhe, there was a well.