A Muddled Tale

An interlude in which Always-Right-Knight has his say.

 

I love the witch. I cannot explain it.  For a witch she is sassy, sexy and all woman.

Despite my golden-haired, blue-eyed appearance, I do lack confidence with women in particular diva witches. And this poses a problem in my pursuit of the Scrumptious witch.

I have spent days writing the perfect Sonnet. Then I climbed to the top of Hill top peak to pick the bluest flower I could find. Finally I snagged some purple label freshly brewed beer, the one that sparkles and crackles.

Armed with my gifts I trudged about the town searching for her. I was tired, not thinking of anything but her when I happened upon her.  I am human and the sight of a near naked witch with a body worth dying for was too much for me. I jumped in and then zap I found myself in a dark place of dreams and nightmares.

When I awoke it was to discover the world had moved on, my diva was no more and I was in an alien place. Giant man-made dragons and machines roared across the sky and land. The place stank like no other. The houses were like palaces. Towers of glass and teeming hordes of people fill this place.

Strange to say, I love it. Better still they love me.

 

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