Deal 1178: Haiku

day by day frog waits
patiently for flies. Snap! goes
sticky tongue of death.

Window reveals slice
of the passing life outside
but is it truthful?

writer taps away
steady flow of keystrokes then
owl eats frog outside


Deal 1176: Priced Dog

We all know that too many Princes are born without any innate sense of the value of things, and their typical upbringing does nothing to remedy this lack through training or example.

The puppy watched the pomp and ceremony outside, and wondered if this was going to be its lucky day. She was a good dog, if young and untrained, and knew that the right human was what she needed. Every day she watched the world wander by, and wished that some of it would stop and look at her.

Naturally, a few did stop at her shop. But all too many were after kittens or bunnies. Or even, shudder, birdies or fishies. She knew that birds and fish were popular pets, but they were much more interesting to her as prey.

When they did stop, she did her best to look happy, wag her tail, and exude an aura of confidence. All at the same time. Which usually ended with her tail and feet tied in a knot as she fell over herself. But it seemed that the hope died when they saw the price on her pen, and when the shopkeeper seemed unwilling to budge, they always moved on. If only she could read, she thought, she might understand why they were leaving her in her pen.

But today was different. Today’s the day, she told herself.

Then the fuss began outside, and she was captivated by all the pomp as the royals made their way past her window.

This time, she was determined to find her human.

And a Prince with a generous allowance was going to be just her ticket.


Deal 1172: Unity

Much like wheels within wheels, there is always a new inner circle to aspire to enter. Only the most dedicated to the cause may enter and partake of the next level of the hidden truths. The Unity is a very effective organization. And very secretive. So secretive that many of its members are unaware of its nature.

A nature that it goes to great lengths to conceal from both outside and inside.

Official stories of its origins and founding vary by region, and by circle. Each local group above a certain level is encouraged to find its own origin story, and to act as if they are at the innermost circle.

I’m coming to believe there may be no “innermost” circle. But rather an elaborate labyrinth of memberships and rituals designed to hold the attention of those whose hearts are not pure.

And I think I might just be on to something, as new instructions have appeared in my notebook overnight.


Deal 1170: Emptying the Swamp

Crank the handle, wind up the music. And the band played on. And the frogs came in from the swamp.

Wind up the music. Listen to the croaking madness. Dodge the occasional explosion.

There is a war on, but then when hasn’t there been a war on?

The frogs come in from the swamp in wave, croaking thanks as they cross our threshold.

Rain may fall without harm, but shrapnel is a flying pig of another color entirely. Frogs don’t appreciate the charms of shrapnel. They do appreciate shelter.

Music plays and frogs sing.