“…to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that’s the whole art and joy of words.” ⎯ C.S. Lewis

Villagers | Ship of Promises

“So change is never an end. Cause this is happening all over again.  And it’s been days since I left. On this ship of promises… Don’t look back.”

The Real Santa?

Neil Gaiman’s “Nicholas Was…”

Nicholas Was…
     Older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter. He wanted to die.
     The dwarfish natives of the Arctic caverns did not speak his language, but conversed in their own, twittering tongue, conducted incomprehensible rituals, when they were not actually working in the factories.
     Once every year they forced him, sobbing & protesting, into Endless Night.
     During the journey he would stand near every child in the world, leave one of the dwarves’ invisible gifts by its bedside. The children slept, frozen into time.
     He envied Prometheus and Loki, Sisyphus and Judas. His punishment was harsher.