Once a Kingdom

We are, we have always been.
Holding council, ever unchanging.

As the pleasant warmth returns, the discussion continues where it left off when the cold time came.
Old Abarak weighed in first, as usual. “We were once part of a great society, A KINGDOM on a mountain; we WERE the mountain, that was the expanse of our kind…Together as ONE!”
The elders nearby murmured in agreement.
“Nothing could touch or harm us. Harmony and peace for ages.”
“Then one day… One horrible day…”

He trailed off. It often ended there, the memory was too painful. It didn’t matter, the smaller ones had heard the story enough to recite it themselves.

After millennia on the great old mountain, the kingdom was attacked by outside forces, torn asunder, families were ripped apart. When the dust settled, all was in ruins. Survivors found themselves isolated, alone. Over time new families grew, new allegiances were formed from the rubble. But no more mountain kingdom, now only scattered tribes.
Continue reading

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Dog

The little dog was curious.

What was that smell? It had no experience with it. Was it food? Maybe- but it didn’t smell like the food in the dish, the dry stale chunks that it learned was all it must eat when in the warm place. Not from the trashcan, always full of fascinating morsels, but from the cold metal dish on the floor. Only eat from the cold metal dish.

Was this the smell of another beast, another dog or perhaps something altogether different? It was familiar with the other hounds on this street, they left their pungent scent everywhere. In fact, it was compelled to add its perfume at every stop where it smelled the leavings of another dog. Not something to think about, just do. The little dog didn’t spend much time outside, at least not alone like this. Usually it was tethered to the two-legs and led about slowly along the hard walking place, never allowed to just run and run, as it liked to do very much.

Today was different. Continue reading

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Follow the sun to the sons

Day two of my vacation. Day three should put me in Eugene Oregon and the company of my sons for a camping trip. Currently having a burger in Cheyenne WY and treating my butt to a seat not crafted by Nissan. I love the western part of the USA. Already had a chat with a local fellow after he noticed my knife sharpening sign on the truck. “Make a livin sharpening knives do ya?” He mentioned three times that he was born in Chicago, evoking some Midwest allegiance with this traveler from Milwaukee. I put an edge on his pocket knife and he wished me safe travels.

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