on the causeway - monday evening - 04/26
Hurly burly, twisting, whirling
Like some river through the land he's been
Flying, spying, learning, trying
To be half of what deserves his kin.
It was almost a different boy who came down the causeway. He was still a boy, though the lanky frame had filled out some, the potential of the father's form come true in hard work and happenstance. No diamonds, no, not yet, not again, but his skin was dark in spots from when he'd spoken to the sun too long. No amount of light could do a thing to the blackness of his hair, but the wind had tousled it, not that it had behaved any better for the wind than it did for him.
From the peaks, falling, calling,
As deep as a well, or farther, in Hell
Echoing, listening, an unprompted christening
Gone longer than even the longest spell.
He'd started to wonder if he was mad. Honestly, while the idea of spending over two years in a delusion was a little far-fetched, it was nothing on an island in the world of the visiting Saint full of food and teachers and people from other places. The latter relied on the world making little sense, the former on his mind making little sense.
Though he'd learned that the world often made little sense, so he was less surprised than he would have been before he'd gone.
Past, present, future, now,
Magic and madness, statecraft and hearts
Hoping, praying, a beast that needs slaying
Not quite yet, though. He's still at the start.
"Glad to be back?" and his voice felt older, sounded hungrier than it'd been while he was here even to him. Maybe everything had happened for a reason. Maybe it hadn't. The Unnamed God was annoyingly silent on the matter.
The dog, however, barked back.
"...yes, well, no one will be smacking you wondering where you've been for months, now, will they?"
Makejoy, as one might expect, made no reply to that. After all, she was a very smart dog.
[open or establishy!]
Like some river through the land he's been
Flying, spying, learning, trying
To be half of what deserves his kin.
It was almost a different boy who came down the causeway. He was still a boy, though the lanky frame had filled out some, the potential of the father's form come true in hard work and happenstance. No diamonds, no, not yet, not again, but his skin was dark in spots from when he'd spoken to the sun too long. No amount of light could do a thing to the blackness of his hair, but the wind had tousled it, not that it had behaved any better for the wind than it did for him.
From the peaks, falling, calling,
As deep as a well, or farther, in Hell
Echoing, listening, an unprompted christening
Gone longer than even the longest spell.
He'd started to wonder if he was mad. Honestly, while the idea of spending over two years in a delusion was a little far-fetched, it was nothing on an island in the world of the visiting Saint full of food and teachers and people from other places. The latter relied on the world making little sense, the former on his mind making little sense.
Though he'd learned that the world often made little sense, so he was less surprised than he would have been before he'd gone.
Past, present, future, now,
Magic and madness, statecraft and hearts
Hoping, praying, a beast that needs slaying
Not quite yet, though. He's still at the start.
"Glad to be back?" and his voice felt older, sounded hungrier than it'd been while he was here even to him. Maybe everything had happened for a reason. Maybe it hadn't. The Unnamed God was annoyingly silent on the matter.
The dog, however, barked back.
"...yes, well, no one will be smacking you wondering where you've been for months, now, will they?"
Makejoy, as one might expect, made no reply to that. After all, she was a very smart dog.
[open or establishy!]