Prose: Chosen

On this restless night, Oleg had a strange, even mystical, dream that was both mesmerizing and frightening.

In a small unremarkable fishing village on the banks of a wide river, people lived and suffered. They suffered because they didn't know how to live well.

"Everything has its price," the gray-haired old man concluded, setting aside his glittering pen after making a brief note on the book in front of him.

A traveler was returning home along the banks of a cheerful and murmuring mountain river.

In a powerful and renowned kingdom, a new king was ascending to the throne.

Practical prescriptions for political processes

Oleg was really unlucky that day.

People kept coming to the countless-ages-wise gray-haired elder, one after another.

Once upon a time — and for the first time it happened many years ago and since then it happens from time to time again and again — a young man was running along the roa

“Another fine day in the eternity! I am glad to welcome everyone here in the seventh heaven today within the walls of our domain.