Being Last In The Tallness Of The Cottonwood Castle, Extra Bauble Extra Sword
272 Words
We have arrived to judge the entrants to this immortal saga. Vespy, starry suntanned surfer boy turned princely and somehow he became the king of my world. There was Redune, a fabulous touch too much for me. I floundered in the mud, the closed waters. Bitching and throwing steel about the place. He complained about the edge of the knive cutting into the skin, the quick. Helen was a bright mark on his record, she had been taken at 2hrs :35 minutes. A new world record, no, a new record for the universe! He ate at the captain's table for nights at a time. He surely had more than he could handle, he fell off early and went home a meek little soul bound by his rejection by the queen. Sorry, boy, it's all a game, you loser, you scratcher. I tried to warn him but he was gone in his mind, his head was askew. Mask of death. Delighted to see you in your demise. She surely cried. A wanton song sung by the keening lips of loss. A deliberate death toll. A bullet to the brain. The electric impulses can not make their course straight on. The answer to the ring of matter and light in the baulstrade. He came and conquered the master and the fly wore a blue ribbon to signfy the winning heel-to-toe and strap after strap after strap until the strap came down like a light on the warpath. The rest of the time was spent like a cone bearing tree giving off its vapors to the left and emitting scorched remants of left behind ashes.
- Writer
