Two Villages - Extract from my anthology The Miller and the Boy

Two villages sat upon the bank of a river. In the spring, the river would swell and bulge, glutted upon the thawing ice from the mountains, and in winter it would occasionally freeze. There was, teetering on the brink of the horizon, the sprawl of a forest, and both villages were easily discernible from faraway, due to the church towers at their centre, which would chime out their music each and every Sunday. In both villages, there were two baker’s shops, a blacksmith, and a village green at...