deviantgene

The refuge of the insane, or the utterly despondent, the written word. Tonight, I hope I shall write out all I feel on this kind, yet faceless computer screen. In between what I have been , and where I shall be, there lies the present. They say that the past is comfortable, the future, insecure, But the present is a bit of a Bastard.I see her sometimes, stil, coming at me from thacross the cast empty moonlit beach, with the seawaves caressing her feet in a strangely aqueising sort of way… Like the godess that she is. Her long floral skirt conceals much, and yet seems to augmen he contours of her body in a way that reminds one of Venus-De Milo. She waves at me, from across the shore…. and then suddenly, a mist draws upon us… Her silent shriek echoin throug the night. As I am left in the darkness, with only the lilting cadence of the intonations that the waves make as they splash against the water.
The mist clears, and there is no one… all feelings of devotion turn to uetter horror, as her mangled body lies on the shore. Like some broken branch of a now dead tree, I see her face turned towards me, its visage a mask of utter horror. What happned in that ist, I shall never know, for the strange quality of mists is that they conceal more than they reveal. Maybe she was never there in the first place,just a figment of my shattered imagination,The seashre withers away into a glass shell,
Ans I am left banging against the wall, my hands restricted by the straitjacket, screaming away into the dark recesses of m slitary confinement.

Ah, so we have a traveller at our inn again… it has been a long time! How are things in your part of the world…wayfarer…May the happiness in your life be as plenteous as the stars oin a chilly hillside evening….May the angels of joy gallivant ahead of you strewing little pieces of happiness all around… A big storm rages outside…come in.. And shut the door behind you…
A good stiff drink then…for you! You may remove your coat and place it on the stand by the door…And I shall make sure that you get a comfortable room for the night..
What is it you said.. A story… do you want to hear a story from us..?? Well.. Make your self comfortable then for the night has just begun..and the storm may rage for a while longer..
Hear then this, the story of the blind fortune teller and the dancing Girl of Semptokha
This happened a long time ago…at which time, men had not yet becomes as cunning and beguiling as they are today, and much good still prevailed in the world..
The animals too, had not yet lost their power of speech. That did not happen till. Let me see.. the hundred year war was it?? Ah! But I digress, that is part of another story, and one you may hear tonight, if you are lucky !
So, much peace prevailed over the world, and in a now long lost kingdom, nestled deep in the mountains, lived an old monk.
What the monk was named is not important, and neither is the name of the hill where he stayed. He stayed in a monastery not long removed from the capital of the kingdom, but the hillside was dotted with many such monasteries, such that his, like all the others, has now passed into oblivion. There was nothing special about the hill, the monastery, or the monk, each being alike to their multitudinous brethren strewn around the country.
So every evening, this monk would go and light a butter lamp at the shrine of his deity, and then close the door behind him to retire for the night’s meditation. And every morning he would come out again, extinguish the butter lamp , and retreat back inside to tend to his small garden- From where the monk derived most of his sustenance.
One day, as the monk came out of his hut for lighting the butter lamp, from atop another hill, there sat watching him and fox and a badger. Now, if you do not know this already, let me tell you, the fox and the badger were the most cunning animals who ever existed. And the squabble between them has lasted eternally, ever since the first fox and the first badger came into existence. Why it is so, nobody knows, for not even they now remember the reason behind this quarrel.
So there, on the hilltop, sat the fox and the badger, and they eyed the monk with more than a passing interest. For soon, a wager was made between the two. Whoever managed to drive the monk out of his monastery, for more than 3 days, would have won.
When the monk rose the next day and went out to extinguish the lamp, there came upon him the sound of thundering hooves. And he saw, from afar, three horses atop whom sat the king’s soldiers. One of them was wearing the rank insignia of a captain. The horses stopped in front of his door, and from close, the monk could see that they were the special breed of dragon horses that the king’s magicians had bred into existence. The horses could breathe fire.. and were wild enough tp strike fear in the heart of the hardest of men.
Ah!, but look, dinner is ready. Ale and cake and meat await us. Come, weary traveller, let us eat, and I shall continue with my story.