Issue 33 (Dec 2011)
Yes, they are cute, very cute. And you better believe they know it, too. Who’s in charge? Yes, that’s Corgis for you. Aren’t we lucky Seattle lets dogs ride the bus? I don’t think they’d understand if someone were to tell them they couldn’t. Probably they would blame me.
There once was a prince whose dearest friend was a river.
Now rivers are sometimes girls, quick as lightning; and they are boys sometimes, speeding like arrows. And they are gravid women sometimes, and sometimes they are men, full of poetry and slow as scripture. Most of the time you simply cannot tell, though storytellers will try.
Owen said, “It’s only a grass snake!” and shoved the wriggling length of the dark thing in Greg’s face.
Greg recoiled in disgust.
It’s half theatrics and half misplaced nostalgia. After all, she doesn’t need the sword to kill him. She could drown him in the vast expanse of water that is slowly eroding all the coasts, eating the land bit by bit. But it seems to have become tradition and there are few things to cling on to these days. As a result, she carries the sword and waits by the sea.