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// pgs. 28 - 29 
// Story: Decadence, As Performed By Four Calling Birds 
// by WritingSpirit 
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they carried us into these harrowed tunnels. lost paths from the kingdoms of old. serpents slithering through the mountain range. the eldest of them prattles of a life mired in penury and warfare. of destitute towns in the north set aflame. it is a life not too dissimilar to our own.

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he spoke of his freedom. of his travels through valleys of glass and gold neath the gild of winter's lace blanket, and of the beasts that roam them, of how they bore our shapes and replicate our behaviors. they speak only with the gnashing of teeth. their laughs are soft, for a robustious laugh is tantamount to blasphemy in their culture. seldom do they engage with their hooves, for their dissents occur by way of a shimmering of heads.

he lies. it is clear to me the life he regales so fondly was not his own.

thus, i consulted HIM in secret, and HE spoke in my head all that was true of the elder’s tale before dancing flames, truths that i have penned unto this paper.


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i asked HIM of the beasts who barter with shimmering heads. and HE spoke of the creatures and their pasts long forgotten. of grand palaces carved from crystal and bright hamlets rising from stone. HE insisted on recounting their former glory, as though such greatness is so easily reduced. HE implored from me an open mind and heart.

it must be easy, to soliloquise so freely without fear of starvation.




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partridge sang a hymn during our prayers today. the first in many moons.

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it was a lovely song.




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stars converge upon us this night.

partridge's coughs worsened. the elder says her consumption had flared up in the night but assured me in private that she will last the remainder of the journey.

there is an apothecary in the town we are headed, the elder claims. the mare he speaks of can treat dear partridge's consumption. all partridge was to do until then is rest.


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HE came to me as i was by my lover's cotside and holding her cold hoof. strange though they may be, HIS many questions and reassurances were sudden but welcome. HE told me to hold her close in my heart, as though it had not been my imperative already to do so, though it would be cruel to demand from a being like HIM anything more. HE promised to see through her survival, to which i thank him ever more despite my reservations.

and just as from the silence HE came, so too to the silence HE returned.

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it is time to say grace.

i must grab my knife.






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g. r. A.




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