Aside from the sign, there was, etched in a stone tablet (resembling much those Moses had carried down from the mountains) a series of “commandments”: Though shalt oink in joy, ‘pon seeing thy Queen Though shalt e’er obey the elder swine Though shalt bring offering of bacons and hams (why exactly a pig would eat […]
Read More The Crown of Fools, Chapter Twenty-FourUpon waking, Finnen’s eyes were somewhat bloodshot as the whales in his dream would never heed his cries to “Give it a rest already!” This inn was not what the strange book presented by Creighton and held in duplicate by Chaim (who also had bloodshot eyes- impressive, seeing as he was a spirit, and therefore […]
Read More The Crown of Fools, Chapter Twenty-ThreeThere was no easing into this battle, as if one were to ease into the cold ocean on holiday. There was no hesitant first shot or swing, nor did both sides line up parallel and eye each other with a mixture of awe and respect. The battle started with all the complexity and tact of […]
Read More The Crown of Fools, Chapter Twenty-TwoPetka Fawcett woke up no more or less exhausted (spiritually and physically) then when he dropped into the hex-coma, which made sense in that he currently inhabited a land where nothing really added up, and you couldn’t take two steps without bumping into an anachronism or timeline contradiction. Once Finnen awoke, the four’s movement was […]
Read More The Crown of Fools, Chapter Twenty-OneFinnen and Fawcett, both experienced outdoorsmen, dressed the unicorn very quickly while Chaim sat in the torch-lit bar and studied a very old book in one of the rooms in the inn above the pub. And despite the fact that it was always dusk- always sundown- a cooler wind started to blow, as if (maddeningly), […]
Read More The Crown of Fools, Chapter TwentyChapter Nineteen As it turned out, and much to Petka’s surprise, unicorns were (as promised) real and plentiful, resembling majestic white horses with a shimmering mane and silvery tail, and indeed (as the legends had said), had a twisting horn protruding from their skull– golden in color and undoubtedly magical. “You like them, Fawcett? Take […]
Read More The Crown of Fools, Chapter NineteenOur Lives are painted pictures Of this, we can be sure But such a waste of Crimson When spilt upon the floor. I can hear you’re cloaked in sadness For I have lived there too And it seems your heart is broken (As hearts are wont to do) So please consider this now , If […]
Read More A Case for Keeping Crimson
