The falling rain gently tapped on the window, monotonous in tone and rhythm. Nodding over my keyboard, I struggle on, looking for something to fill the massive blank space before me ere the
hypnotic glow of the laptop screen lulls me back to sleep. I won't be cleaning the leaf filled
gutters today. Gathering round two of the freshly fallen walnuts from my overloaded trees will have to wait as well. Not that I'm too proud to gather walnuts in the rain, I've just ran out of places to dry
them. Though my beloved Pamela hasn't scolded me for leaving walnut stains on the floor from a leaking garbage bag, she eventually will. I know she's saving that information for the next time she breaks one of my antique butter molds. At least, that's what I'd do. Smirk, smirk.
Listening to old music videos on YouTube is usually forbidden when I write. It breaks my concentration. Still, today I indulge myself in a little bit of revisiting the past, even to the point
of watching the video instead of merely listening to it. I like songs that tell a story to a beat,
rather than stumbled, mumbled words on the repeat, repeat. Sorry about that. Every so often I get the urge to rhyme. I shut the TV off after one song. I've got work to do.
That rain keeps falling gently down, growing more hypnotic with each drop. This is the atmosphere
that usually inspires a romantic, some say lusty, poem about my darling wife. I should be writing of the sweet smell of her skin, the softness of her ruby lips upon mine, the feathery touch of, well you get the picture. Today, however, I'm filled with thoughts of literary work left unfinished. Though I try to make the most of my time, my writing inspiration comes and goes as it wills. Often, that wreaks havoc with deadlines and advancing other projects. Sometimes, it seems that my time is no longer mine to control. Wrested from my grasp by the demands of others, time disappears as surely as grains of sand are washed away by a raging ocean, never to return.
My sulking hero, Von, is well acquainted with such emotion. Imprisoned by the Northern King in the
past, Von well remembers the time lost while bound in chains both mental and metal. At the first, he sought physical escape from the dark one. Accomplishing that, but tormented by his past, Von unraveled. He could hide or he could die. The struggle became too much for him. Losing his memory, he longed for understanding of his missing past. Like many a man, it took many trials, and the aid of good women, Von to find his place. Then there's the revenge thing. Recovering his memory, he longed only for revenge. Some sword slingers are never happy.
My own time is limited here. I'd be a bigger fool than Von if I didn't realize that. While I am able, I'll
keep posting my thoughts on various topics, hoping my Lorefans will recognize in my ramblings a
place in life they've been, or will someday journey through. May my words make your journey a little smoother, or at least a bit funnier. If nothing else, perhaps I can, at least, point out the more dangerous
parts of the road. Loredagger that, dear friends. As always, please read on!.