We got a. Number one victory royale, yeah Fortnite we boutta get down! Get down! Ten kills on the board right now, just wiped out tomato town! My friend’s gone down, I revived him now we’re heading southbound! Now we’re in the pleasant park street, look at the map, go to the marked sheet!
The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"
Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!
The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.
For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!
The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!
In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.
"The little horse wins!"
"Lath, an easy winner!"
"Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"
People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.
Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.
"I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."
Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.
A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.
"And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"
Agba leaned forward in his saddle.
There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."
How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.
The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.
Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.
He had kept his word!
For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.
The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in
The Fast of Ramadan
In the northwestern slice of Alaska known as Seward, a horseboy stood, with broom in hand, in the vast courtyard of the royal stables of the sultan. He was waiting for dusk to fall. All day long he had eaten nothing. He had not even tasted the left over fish tucked in his turban nor the enormous purple grapes that spilled over the palace wall into the stable yard. He had tried not to sniff the rich, amazing, warm feeling fragrance of ripening of that sweet pome-grants. For this was the sacred mounth of ramadan when, day after day, all faithful Mohammedans neither eat nor drink from the dawn before sunrise until the momment after sunset!
Dolly Parton and Queen Elizabeth went to the Pearly Gates on the same day.
They both met with an Angel to find out if they would be admitted to Heaven.
The angel said "Unfortunately, there's only one space in Heaven today so I must decide which one of you will be admitted."
The Angel asked Dolly if there was some particular reason why she should go to Heaven.
Dolly took off her top and said, "Look at these, they're the most perfect breasts God ever created and I'm sure it will please God to be able to see them every day, for eternity."
The Angel thanked Dolly, and asked Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the same question.
The Queen walked over to a toilet, pulled the lever and flushes it without saying a word.
The Angel immediately said, "OK, your Majesty, you may go into Heaven."
Dolly was outraged and asked, "What was that all about? I showed you two of God's own perfect creations and you turned me down. She simply flushed a commode and she got admitted to Heaven! Would you explain that to me?
"Sorry, Dolly," said the Angel, "but even in Heaven, a royal flush beats a pair - no matter how big they are."
Sultan Khan was an courtier in akbar s' court he wanted to make his son the royal treasure but his cunning plans always failed Sultan khan thought that birbal was to play his son's misfortune so he looked for a opportunity to get rid of birbal one day birbal was late to the emperor 's court seeing this angry when sultan khan said your majesty don't you think that birbal is taking his position he has been late these days this must be another plan to trap birbal said akbar So he decided to wait and see what and see what birbal would do So akbar sit next to suman khan and said yes he must be punished Suman khan was amazed to see his plan work this time From now you should not agree to anything he says today Akbar replied agreed Soon birbal came to court Please spare me from being here late my wife was unwell Akbar immediately said no Birbal was surprised He tried again by saying but that's the truth Please belive me Again akbar replied no There must be something going on thought birbal himself Then he asked can we discover important matters today Akbar immediately replied no we will not Then may I go home asked birbal Akbar said no you will stay here this evening said akbar enjoying himself Birbal understood what was happening Oh so this is my game the emperor is saying no to all my questions He saw around and saw suman khan smiling to see him in trouble This must be his idea Let me teach him a lesson The clever birbal thought to akbar Very well he said But I have a last request will you please listen to me Akbar saw what birbal had done He was very pleased and called loudly No I will not listen to you That is all birbal said before returning to his seat Suman khan was thunned and angry And birbal had outwitted him an he could not make his son the treasure
In pixels and polygons, a virtual realm unfolds, A battleground where warriors gather, young and old. A game of wits and strategy, a dance of skill and might, Behold the phenomenon, the world of Fortnite.
What is Fortnite, you ask, this digital sensation? A realm where dreams are forged, in endless animation. A world of endless possibilities, where heroes rise and fall, A tapestry of triumph, where victory calls.
From humble beginnings, a storm begins to brew, A hundred souls drop down, with dreams anew. An island vast and varied, a landscape to explore, From verdant meadows to urban cities, the battles roar.
With pickaxe in hand, we gather resources with haste, Wood, metal, and stone, the foundation of our base. We build and we craft, constructing our fort, A fortress of defense, where enemies are fought.
The storm looms ever closer, a force we can't deny, Pushing us closer together, as time quickly flies. We strategize and plan, our tactics ever shifting, In this ever-shrinking world, our spirits uplifting.
Weapons and loot, scattered throughout the land, We arm ourselves with firepower, take our final stand. Shotguns, rifles, explosives, and more, In this game of survival, we even the score.
But Fortnite is more than just a battle royale, A canvas for creativity, where imaginations set sail. From creative mode to party royale, a world of endless fun, With friends and strangers, united as one.
Yet amidst the chaos, let's not forget, Fortnite is but a game, a virtual vignette. For beyond the pixels and the storms that rage, Lies a world that beckons, beyond the digital stage.
So let us embrace the joy that Fortnite brings, A tapestry of moments, where victory sings. For in this realm of pixels and dreams, Fortnite shines bright, a testament it seems.
So gather your friends, embark on this quest, In the realm of Fortnite, put your skills to the test. For in the end, it's not just about the game we play, But the bonds we form, as we dance and slay.
