Being shut in the crystal cave was overwritten; I just needed an abrupt exit from Camelot. Time to start a new legend.
When I met that woodcarver after leaving Wenceslaus, I got it! The funniest thing is so many don't see the correlation, even when both books are side by side. The hat shape, the beard length, the long flowing robes. Add magic? No problem, I'm Merlin!
The "crystal cave" is now made of ice? You can't find it? You don't see me fly?
But I'll see YOU in two hundred thirty-four days! Ho ho ho!
About the Creator
Meredith Harmon
Mix equal parts anthropologist, biologist, geologist, and artisan, stir and heat in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country, sprinkle with a heaping pile of odd life experiences. Half-baked.
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Aileron
"A martlet in English heraldry is a mythical bird without feet that never roosts from the moment of its drop-birth until its death fall; martlets are proposed to be continuously on the wing. It is a compelling allegory for continuous effort, expressed in heraldic charge depicting a stylised bird similar to a swift or a house martin, without feet...The Common Swift rarely lands outside breeding season, and sleeps while airborne." -Wikipedia intro for "Martlet"
By Meredith Harmon3 years ago in Fiction
Logic and reason are not always explanation enough.
Logic and reason are not always explanation enough. Understanding is elusive He sat looking at the half empty glass but not seeing it, he was cold but not feeling it, he was in pain but not hurting from it. His mind was numb, his memory a jumble of conflicting events, as if from a nightmare but were in fact real. The phone rang for a long time before it gained his attention and then he tried to turn it off, an automatic reaction against coming back to reality. His mind preferred the numbness to anything else that was available. In this distracted state he accidentally accepted the call and put it onto speaker, the voice from the speaker jolted him into giving it his full attention. This was a call from the dead. The voice was full of concern, “where are you John, why haven’t you called, what is going on?” Even to his own ears his tone sounded subdued, defeated, “I am in the cabin, in the woods but I am OK will call you later” and he turned the phone off both ending this call and not accepting any other.
By Peter Rose6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Is that how many days are left until Christmas? My how the time has flown. I'd better start my shopping. Love it.
Haha, clever💙Anneliese