Somedays, I sit, looking at the stars. I muse and wonder. I meditate and reflect. And I find the miracle in a new day of life. Especially since I swallowed so much glass the day before.
Lecturer by day, pony word peddler by night.
Nothing special here, move along, nothing to see, just ignore the lump under the sheet and the red stuff...
"Gold for the merchant, silver for the maid / Copper for the craftsman, cunning in his trade / 'Good', laughed the Baron, sitting in his hall / But iron - cold iron - shall be the master of them all."