your bridge home
Tales of the Gods
The paste belonged to the king. The strangers asking had no rank and no power to protect her if she arrived short.
A servant woman was on her way to the palace with the king's ointments when the two boys stopped her in the street.
Mathura was full that day. Krishna and Balarama had come in from the cowherd village that morning. Country boys, dressed like country boys, drawing stares in a capital city.
The rest of this story, read aloud, and a new one every day.