Deal 1181: Haiku

Proud, he stood athwart
history, waiting for peace
with or without him.

Ebon bird in a
murder with friends and for hire
loyal to the core

Rodent hiding from
the scene of the crime this time
died supporting us.


Deal 1174: Life of cat

I carve fruit. Usually melons, but on occasion other fruit will do. In the fall, I’m often expected to carve pumpkins so I make a point of doing at least one to display somewhere prominent and visible.

I’m never entirely certain how my clients find me. I don’t exactly advertise, and yet I almost always have enough work booked to keep me busy.

Then he walked in my door.

I say “he” out of a lack of any better choice. I’m still not entirely certain what he looked like, even speaking to him without looking took effort. As if he was not used to dealing with those still living, but was making an effort. I respect that, but his presence in my shop was still deeply unsettling.

If I thought I would be believed I would add “fruit carver to death incarnate” to my sign. At least at Halloween time, it would add a certain unusual something. But who would believe me? I barely believe me, and I was there!

Even less likely to be believed was the subject that he required.

He wanted a series of panels depicting a kitten at play and growing into a cat, carved into a pumpkin so that as the candle flame wobbled the kitten would almost appear to be alive.

It was a good commission, although he did pay in cash, in old coins that seemed to want to be arranged in pairs.

Still, Death and his kittens of doom.


Deal 1144

The mirror stares back at me, accusing in its silence.

I would threaten it again, but it would do no good. Last time it ended up cracked. And yet, it persists in staring at me.

As I sit here and it sits there, I get occasional glimpses into the mirror world. But picture only, never sound. But picture is enough to make it clear the glimpses are not of the here and now.

The deceased may appear from time to time, but their actions are relevant in the here and now.

And then the cloud. The visions clouded over, the proper future replaced by a growing darkness. Almost as if the mirror itself was warning me of something. But what?

The mirror stares back at me, accusing in its silence.