Ancestral Chants

  I bumped into Tark on Pettifogger’s Gill, he was sitting under a tree, eating a midday meal of bread and cheese, and so I joined him and added a meat pie to our common table. I had last seen him when a financial syndicate decided to open up the Aphices Vales to tourism. I’m … More Ancestral Chants

The street scene

It has to be admitted that there are streets where one has to watch every direction at once lest somebody pick that particular moment to cast out of an upstairs window the contents of a chamber pot, the results of an unsuccessful culinary experiment, or a faithless spouse. There are other streets where you run … More The street scene