There rests on the boards, the most curious of things...a memory. Some seem's written beautifully, other parts in a child's hand, and other parts too, in the script of a scribe, neat and perfect.
Let me tell you a story...
Of one, two and three.
And should it come to pass,
That one be taken,
Let the others be taken too,
For one is bound twice,
Two is bound twice
And three is bound twice,
So ne'er shall they part
And become useless...
How stupid to halt the tide of change.If there be just these two, then whence came the third? It cannot be, merely imagination, fiction, tales and tails...If we do not believe, then it cannot come to pass.
Hey now, all you children, leave your lights on.
"There's a monster..."
"Really?"
"Where?"
"Right there..."
"Where?"
"Open your eyes silly!"
. . .
"Boo!"
~Thud~
"Now wasn't that fun?"
"Let's do it again!"
"Hrmph."