(no subject)
The fire in the fireplace has nearly died. Its once roaring flame has been reduced to a small, glittering collection of embers in the fireplace. A small plume of smoke began to dance up the chimney; a pathetic sight compared to the amount that shot up from the excited fire no more than five minutes previous. The room had become dark; stale with silence.
Next to the remains of the fire, two young boys sat on the floor, indian-style, with their eyes and mouth agape. The object of their focus: their uncle. He sat in a rocking chair spinning tales for the past three hours; captivating his young audience.
He spent more hours than most in that rocking chair, stroking his beard, eyes wandering. The two boys knew better than to bother him during the day. Most people would assume that he was senile; crazy, even. Not the boys. They knew better. They knew that he was preparing for tonight. Preparing tonight's story. The boys knew they had to be patient. Wait until the fire started in the fireplace. Because the fire meant Storytime.
But Storytime was over. The boys would now have to wait until the next night before they could again hear of the trails of their favorite hero, fight Octarocs, explore palaces guarded by monsters, frollic through the fields of that ancient land. Before they can return to Hyrule.
"Uncle Steve! Tell us what happens next!" Connor exclaimed.
"No way!" Noah interjected. "Tell us the part where Link kills 20 Goblins at Death Mountain!"
Steve continued to gaze past the boys, past the window. It would seem he was looking past reality itself and placing himself in Hyrule; almost as if he had seen it all for himself. He chuckled at his nephews' enthusiasm.
"Children," Steve calmly said. The boys hung on every word. "The fire is done. That means the story for tonight is done. Tonight you must dream the ending. And tomorrow, you tell me how the story ends."
At that point Connor looked at his younger brother. Sharing a smile, they ran up the stairs to their bedroom, eager to plan the remainder of Link's adventure.
Next to the remains of the fire, two young boys sat on the floor, indian-style, with their eyes and mouth agape. The object of their focus: their uncle. He sat in a rocking chair spinning tales for the past three hours; captivating his young audience.
He spent more hours than most in that rocking chair, stroking his beard, eyes wandering. The two boys knew better than to bother him during the day. Most people would assume that he was senile; crazy, even. Not the boys. They knew better. They knew that he was preparing for tonight. Preparing tonight's story. The boys knew they had to be patient. Wait until the fire started in the fireplace. Because the fire meant Storytime.
But Storytime was over. The boys would now have to wait until the next night before they could again hear of the trails of their favorite hero, fight Octarocs, explore palaces guarded by monsters, frollic through the fields of that ancient land. Before they can return to Hyrule.
"Uncle Steve! Tell us what happens next!" Connor exclaimed.
"No way!" Noah interjected. "Tell us the part where Link kills 20 Goblins at Death Mountain!"
Steve continued to gaze past the boys, past the window. It would seem he was looking past reality itself and placing himself in Hyrule; almost as if he had seen it all for himself. He chuckled at his nephews' enthusiasm.
"Children," Steve calmly said. The boys hung on every word. "The fire is done. That means the story for tonight is done. Tonight you must dream the ending. And tomorrow, you tell me how the story ends."
At that point Connor looked at his younger brother. Sharing a smile, they ran up the stairs to their bedroom, eager to plan the remainder of Link's adventure.