The Narrator

Bloody inch crawled forward toward each next bloody inch. Dandy Travis the Pirate crept forward like a creep into the swamp and peat. Folklore told of a beast of whom he’d like to meet. Take a seat after gathered round my fire, my voice is meek but the sound is lustered with myth to which we’re all bound. 

I am The Narrator. 

It all began one midnight of hallow. A librarian was in sorrow when he let a book be borrowed to a thief. Dandy Travis liked to read. Of olde some told, a maiden enfolded in the deep of a swamp. Past the mud and past the laws of man, further than the tree of honey bees. To unlock her one must have a treasure, for treasure and luck are the keys to her heart. 

“Please,” said Dandy Travis the Pirate. “Open like knees. Open sesame seeds, says me!”

Past foliage and palm trees, beyond kudzu walls and small-town lies, Travy cut through the life and began a journey of blight. Knuckles bloody, never dry. Always fighting ahead.

“WAIT FOR ME!” yelled his barstool, twirling ahead and around branches in dances.

“What the hell do you want?” asked Travis the Drunk.

“You can’t have an adventure without me! I’m your only real friend. Have drinks on me in the meantime of your descent! Like hell and Dante, you mustn’t pretend. Let’s die together, my friend!”

“My mission,” said Travis, “is to find a monsterish woman to swoon. Boon her with gloom. Worship the moon till she’s doomed to marry me as her groom. A monster, a fool. I’ve heard tales that she’s buried in this swamp. I’ve heard she kills all males who approach her, but my eyes never fail. I will marry her.”

“If death upon which you seek is warranted, I’ll haunt this swamp with you and help you find this woman. The Beast. And yet you are so beautiful to want the worst thing imaginable. Travy-Travy, your mind is a lavatory of gore and s**t. Won’t you just sit and rethink this madness?’

“No, I must walk down these temple stairs. A fair maiden or monster is laden with angry dogs and bears. All nightmares of mine will be fought for her. No monster will stop me till I get to her. Only she can kill me. My dowry is me, and I’m worth a million kings. The woman of the swamp is mine while she siren sings!”

As the narrator of this tale, I will inform all readers of the characters therein, one by one. Choose your own fate, and your own perspective. Life is lies and each chooses their own demise. Love one and despise another. Each life has it’s own eyes. See for yourself.

To continue this story....

Drugs&Jealousy

https:// www. writerscafe. org/writing/ DrugsAndJealousy/ 2172104/

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