Posted Sunday September 18
We
are not fooled by your guise sir. ‘Tis you, as certain as 'tis day. Try as you might sir, we have your number. For
‘twas you that laid the straw; that set the fire this Spring past.
Poor
Ned still bears the scars of that dreadful day. Though smitten by your jagged rock
then gagged and bound, he writhed free. Champion though he be, he had not the
means to quench the terpsichorous flames that cruelly robbed him of his dwelling
place, his wife, his beloved family.
You
imagined we would not discern you sir. Did you not? How wrong could you have
been? For you, deplorable sir, the die was cast that fateful day. And now, the nethermost depths of your repugnant
basket are reached. ‘Tis us who will strike the final blow; 'tis us.
Take
this.....sir!
.
Ouch - especially those terpsichorous flames! A sizzling flash
ReplyDeleteA bit of nonsense to get me back writing again!
DeleteA good blaze of imagination, and clever transformation of the dye to one of different hue!
DeleteNice to read your writing again, Keith.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed this, Keith. Very imaginative. Nice to 'see' you again.
ReplyDeleteGlad to see you back writing Keith. From your story it sounds as though you've been back the past with Dr. Who and had some fun writing this piece.
ReplyDeleteI love the writing style which well befits the story, and a terrible tale it is!
ReplyDeleteVery well done!
ReplyDeletegood job.
ReplyDelete