Tag: Rummer John

Black coat. Black cane. Imperial purple silk blouse. Black slacks with a crease that can cut time. Silk scarf with a print resembling snake skin. A black chain hangs loosely around my hips. Hanging on it is a small collection of skull trinkets and a few bones of questionable origins. Right. Time to step out.

Weaver finds herself attending an exclusive fête, and breaking several agreements just by being there. Her attempt to leave is twarted. Later she is cornered and the usual Game is played.2,311 words.

Weaver has been forcibly taken to attend a fête as part of the entertainment. She knows this game and plays along. A party crasher is thrown to the floor and Weaver contemplates adding to the number of the dead. 687 words.

Trick or treat! Who is that wearing my face and Rummer John’s hat? Give me the treat of information before I play a trick on that ass! 279 words.

Weaver is interrupted by Rummer John who is requesting something she refuses to yield. 479 words.

Weaver gives belated advice to an arrogant man that decides to crash a private affair. 360 words of hindsight.

This entry is going to meander through Waking space for a bit. There is only one dream in this entry, short and devoid of colorful scenery. But it is enough. Very much enough.1,062 words.

The bar was closed. I stood on the road looking at the sign on the door wondering if I was on the right road. I looked around and saw all the other things I expected to see. A few other would-be patrons stood on the road with me. We looked at each other and shrugged.…