I saw Aletenus del ___ sitting by himself at the back of the Duck’s Claw tavern. The richest knight in the town, no one approached him without good reason.
There were no guards. No one to stop me.
I smiled as I hooked a chair over from the table next to him. I also ignored his look and the one from the other table.
I pulled out a crumpled scrap of (paper) and straightened it out in front of me.
“People more intelligent than me tell me you’re looking for a Hand.”
I am Ceelerin. No last name–at least I’m not telling you. I used to be a member of the Thieves’ Guild, but got out of that for reasons of my own. Mayby I’ll tell you in time, but this story is not about me. It’s about how I learned about brotherhood.
It’s been two years since I opened up this blog.
This is a test.
Grief, a heavy weight to bear,
A constant ache, a burden unfair.
It ebbs and flows, a never-ending tide,
A constant reminder of what once was, now denied.
But grief is a part of life, we all must face,
It shapes and molds us, a personal race.
And though it hurts, we must endure;
For it’s in the grieving that we find a cure.
So take your time, and feel the pain,
Nothing is again the same.
But know that in the end, you’ll find your way,
Grief a part of you, but not here to stay.
ORIGINAL AI:
Grief, a heavy weight to bear, A constant ache, a burden fair. It ebbs and flows, a never-ending tide, A constant reminder of what once was, now denied.
It sneaks up on you when you least expect, A sudden pain, a sharpened object. It takes your breath and makes you sigh, Leaves you feeling lost and alone, no reason why.
But grief is a part of life, we all must face, It shapes and molds us, a personal race. And though it hurts, it’s something we must endure, For it’s in the grieving that we find a cure.
So take your time, and feel the pain, It’s okay to cry, to go insane. But know that in the end, you’ll find your way, Grief a part of you, but not here to stay.
I remember Winnie the Pooh.
A Christmas gift from Uncle Manny.
I slept with him,
Even with Midnight.
He lost his clothes.
He lost an eye.
He turned golden.
And disappeared from my life forever.
I.
An author
Whose book I never finished,
But who signed it for me.
I never gave her a review.
I didn’t like it.
I wanted it to be Aztec,
But it was La Conquistador.
Disappointed.
The tone wasn’t interesting,
The voice was boring.
(I’m sorry)
II.
A cat
Older than dirt.
As old as the man who found him.
Gray with white tip of tail
White paws. Deaf.
Toothless Wonder.
Ribs and bones.
Expected.
I feel you missing,
Your voice is in my dreams.
Forgive me.
III.
A boy
Who’s blood was bad
Who lived six months.
Visited him twice.
He wasn’t in my family.
Not related by blood
Bad or good.
Sudden.
It is sad to hear.
So young, so much potential.
It’s not me.
X,
They say Death comes in threes.
A vigilante, ex-cop (because he’s a vigilante) dual pistols/super reflexes/dark build.
Excellent solo.