Sunday, January 23, 2011


The man walked on a path that led to the horizon. He wore the contented nonchalance of someone on a leisurely evening stroll. His thoughts meandered through the hilly landscape, never stopping for too long on any one aspect of the man’s existence. Ahead, a village appeared, a relief in the fading light. The chimney smoke blended in with the pewter sky.

“Any room for a weary traveler?”

“There’s always room, these days. That darn economy.”

“That makes no sense. Surely a fictional village would not be affected?”

“Don’t blame me! Blame the author for his pitiful attempt at social commentary.”

1 comment:

  1. Ah, you have returned, just as self-degrading as always. Excellent.

    Also, I have taken note of your intent to orally perform one of your stories. I will do my part to ensure that this feat is accomplished.