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Tinker and Toil

Tinker and Toil

Tinker and Toil

Workshop tinkering and toiling. Casting aside the notion that reality doesn’t bend, at least not for this. One drop, two drops, Swirl and Swish…creating the stars under which the White Knight rose. That one did. There, that night; solitude surrounding him, heat bubbling over, boiling his blood. Passion. Unquenchable lust. Seeking the love he needed to put out the flame. That flame. The one set in stone, cast in tension and turmoil. That night, the great wizard learned, that hope would show it’s face and The Pale Queen would rise. Because of him. And because of her, this Her, he’d embark on the journey, the one, the one for all the ages.

Neon Tigers and Guardian Troops of Highlander Lions; The great ancient sage from Westvalle; the mischievous mice that maybe just maybe someday, one day saved the world. This world. Her world. This her, and the two Littles, rulers to be of East and West. This great tale, forged from the spirit of magic once forgotten, spun and sank and separated the miracles from the meek. The believers from the settlers. The ordinary and extraordinary. This kind dreamscape, one rare truth…in beauty there is pure goodness; uniqueness from within, a soul so few will ever comprehend. It’s been found. The spark has been lit.

Two bodies unite; this small space’s great purpose, rebuild the King, find the Queen, and bring down the Division Bell. In that space, in her arms, I’ll find hope. We all will. 

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