writing The Storyteller

[Ferret Girl 2,642]

Once I begin, it will already be past withdrawl. Will you still hear these words?

 

Words spoken of the earnest and true, yet soaked with belittlement and charades.

I begin,

 

Now, on the eve of darkness it was. The moon itself dissapearing ever so, only a fraction of itself dared to peak, as the man made his approach. Ever so deviously, yet with such a strut; Inching ever so closely. The man, a shell of a man he was. So he walked.

 

Bathed in the fractioned moon, fractious himself, oh in so many regards. Enter now him unto my town, and so i swear it was this evening that the town was forsaken. With one foot in front of one another, he walked about, shrouded in the darkness, and hidden by a cloak. On this night, the night of horrors to be told.

 

This man, cautious he seemed, weary of nothing, but shown to be. He entered the tavern and to my wits about me, the first time I laid eyes on the man. The man with the cloak and darkness in hand. Not ten steps did he take to seat himself, amongst all the patrons, he so stood out. Head bent low and seeing nothing, best I may tell. For this is false perception, a lie's best friend. For this man it seems, had his eyes on me.

 

"Gather round all you gents. Hear somthing of value to your ears of lying taste. I offer something of more vlaue than the gold in your dreams, oh so much more. You see, be me, all standards are lost, far beyond translations and much more to seek."

 

And these words he spoke, that man with the cloak. They were the bite that entered the venom. And to this day, that poison remains.

"tell us then, where lies this value? one said

 

"Patience.."the man replied, a grin had formed, a smile so deep, he enjoyed whout he brought.

"Enter now at your own peril, you weak souls are often the subjects of greed that you suffer so heavily. I seek to change the world, enter in a new way of thought" the man, the teller told. Raising about his hand, porving points and arguments that were always percieved.

 

Much of what was said remains lost to me. Oh so many years ago it was. But still I remember when he left he said " Begone now you from me, I have seen your hearts, and to them I have stolen. Your minds are new and your thoughts deprived. Achieving my goal which I sought and strived." And so left he, laughing the way, he left my town, for the worse it meant. All souls who heard his tale, so many now are lost. One, I recount, took his life, and to this I was grieved. My friend now dead. So many others they sought troubles anew, the ways of thought that they now knew, eating their minds away So this was our punishment, listening to that man, the shell of a man. One man whose tales made him a teller to us. The story teller, yes, that one. Who knows how many hearts he stole.

 

 

-David Favret