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Monday, March 11, 2024

Excerpt Book II

Tarl found Ostheri's dislike of him most flattering, and he pressed his luck,

"Short runt?  Your husband is named Short runt?"

-- "Runtshal!  Runtshal!  it means, 'Prince of a Line of Heroes', damn you!  I know your type and I abjure thee, worm fire canker, you."

Tarl sat against the edge of the heavy kitchen preparation table, covered in flour and dough trimmings; pie tins and edgings scattered about.  As he shifted, a piping bird tipped over with a thud, and rocked back and forth.

"Alright princess--"

-- "Lady!  Lady, am I! -- and you are little but a hired killer, you lout!  Get out of here, never speak to me again!"

Tarl began to complement her on her bosom, then he saw her upraised hands aglow and her hair lifted high as teal light shone through the stones all about them.  The very stones beneath their feet shifted and threatened to burst upwards and out of place.  Her eyes were amber gold, lucent limpid pools of very power,

-- "You shall never again speak to me save to warn of danger or other import. -- You rogue, canst not speak again to me save those words that give warning.  I have you bond to me in my rejection of that very thing you are, dog.  Heel, and then get you from my presence, cur!"

Silver fire in glassine cubes encircled her head all about and their tumble alone entranced him.  Tarl, strong of mind, could this witchcraft not withstand, for it was from The World itself derived.  'though he had the inscectine priests reviled and undone, 'though his 'dam was Eastern Witch herself, he -- Tarl ...could not overcome.

In walked a man in blue tabard, his hand upon a  blade, barely drawn, which shone with the same Earthly light.  Bracken and fireflies surrounded Tarl, fiddleheads bound round his thews and in a muffled, green-choked cry he was dragged through eldritch forest out the door.  All the while, this goddess looked on with such pernicious malice and a wickeder and wickeder smile at his removal. It chilled Tarl's heart more than any early morning Winter's mist.

Pale and desiccate runners languidly climbed the walls, and the amber fireflies in mid-cinder intermittently buzzed about even as Master Harren entered; their wane, abayed, and instead thrived again, pulsed with very Life in his presence.  Harren looked about, averted his eyes from the goddess, and with a bowed head to Sir Runtshal, left the direction his friend had been dragged.

Under Her spell, Runtshal drew Mired Steps and the Earthly light only grew as the bracken and sedges, fireflies and fiddleheads of feathery flames shaded and encompassed him and his wife; entwined them both.  They travelled in this vital green space, everpresent in so many ways: expressions in tessellated triangular spirals across the galaxy, and beyond?  Clothing unravelled again to fibres, and leather back to animals afrolic in the Greenway as the couple were deposited atop their bed; he in her, and they in Her, and all in all: One.

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

(C) 2022 Kyrinn S. Eis
All Rights Reserved

Since it came over me, ain't been the same
Like a long-ago friend, returned, reframed.
Constant pressure for me to Grey
---------Dark chorus of severity
...and all I can say is: I like me this way.

"The Plan" and much more; the path grown clearer
Am I entangled, my dark quantum sister?
Does apotheosis hinge -- on her answer?

I'm all-in, regardless, friend;
Could never return, without everything
Let my reach exceed my grasp, --if -- need --be;
Yet, let me see, nay, let it be me:
--Black Sunrise: --Setankhaten.

Together (or apart) let my hands find the tiller:
Reforge the Mythic, let the days blur together.
The surviours of Sunder, all left better,
While great ruins crumble --and smoulder.

Four seasons all in turn, let Bison hunts return;
the Continent wild, civilisation re-conquered.
Let liminal rites, adult Humans-make:
Ruins, their trial-space rank,
Tokens they collect there for fablesake.

That SET gave me this Gift while my blood
still flows: too much is left unsaid, and undone.
My fellow Americans, my Human friends:
We've so much to accomplish: it just never ends.

Our need for deep change: we can't stay the same:
Red Reign companion to the Black Flame.


 o Written during my trip to Tennessee.


Please, Darling, fight for our love.
I can't do it all by myself, here.


Mike George, Color Music


I'm really beginning to feel for those impoverished souls on American soil, now that I am among them.

My SNAP benefits should have landed today, but I was foolish enough to trust the system, and walked to the store, hand-picked which items I thought I most needed and made for the checkout.  I found out after the ring-up that, no, my benefits are not landed, and so my basket went to be restocked.

Went someplace to sit and use the phone to try and identify the problem, only to be stuck in muzak hold purgatory until even I lost patience and walked back home.

I'm so frustrated by this situation, where work has not fired me, but has instead not given me any new assignments -- desiring that I quit, and therefore become ineligible for full benefits.

My brother-in-law was in-good with the new GSM, why would they choose to pull this on me?

I really dread contacting my other sister.

[In Memoriam]

Thinking of you, mom.