Judge Thomas Oakley slowed the car as he crossed Martin Luther Key Street on St. Catherine where it turned into Jefferson. He often slowed down here, in passing the King's Tavern Lounge—although he'd never gotten up the gumption to go in there. It was too close to home and he was too well known. When he wanted that scene, he didn't go anywhere here in Natchez. There were some private men's clubs up in Vicksburg where he could scratch that itch.
He wasn't slowing down outside the K
965 A.D. -- Somewhere in Wessex
Translated from Old English into the Vernacular
The Great Lord drew his sword and drove it quivering into the earth. Even partially sunken into the soil of the forest clearing, the knob of the sword's handle, which appeared to be pure silver, rose nearly to my armpit. I'd never seen anything like it. It was a weapon only the richest of men, one of the Lords of the Realm, could possess and wield.
Reaching inside his oute
© All rights reserved