It seems like just yesterday I was talking about zombies and dancing fauna. It was? Oh. Well, good.

I had a wisp of an idea for this, and I’m not entirely certain it will work out. I think I can make it work, but, I just don’t want to get too violent with it, that would be wrong.

Today’s Word:

funest

As in:

Through the magic of the Internet, the inner workings of a publication in the throes of the copy editing stage can be shared.

“You spell like an internet troll, ‘funest’ is not a word, and if it was, it would be spelt ‘funnest.'”

“Look at the context. It’s a story about a car accident. What kind of person do you think I am? Calling a car accident with multiple deaths ‘fun’ in any form? You’d run a story with the word “funnest” before making a simple check of an obscure word?”

“It’s not a good idea to use obscure words. Maybe he meant ‘funniest.’ Not sure that’s better, but, it’s the first suggestion from the spell check.”

“Oh, right, like spell check is never wrong. Next thing you’re going to suggest is that we don’t need copy editors. You know that spell check will not catch errors like ‘know’ for ‘now.’ This is why we have people to do it. We are the last guardians of a language suffering from the informality of ‘texting,’ and ‘chat rooms.’ There’s no time for practicing proper spelling and punctuation. Will no one learn to master the apostrophe or the semi-colon? It’s just one more sign of a decadent and declining society.” 

“It’s not ‘fun-est, by the way. It’s fyoo-nest. Like ‘fyoo-neral.’ I guess it really is a word.”

“Our readers will probably think we made a mistake, and think we’re making light of a serious accident. We should simplify it. Who uses words like ‘funest,’ anyway? And where did he did up that old fossil?”

“Grammar Girl says ‘funnest’ is gaining ground. If it’s on the threshold of acceptance into general usage, we probably don’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

“Let’s not insult the intelligence of our readers. Give them some credit. Let’s set a higher standard. Go with funest. It’s the funnest!”

******************
Well, I think it’s ok. You can think whatever you’d like. Type to you tomorrow.

funest / fyoo – NEST / boding or causing evil or death; fatal; disastrous.

I’ve been feeling a post fairy tale let down. I hope you don’t feel let down. I should stop typing “let down.”

If you are so inclined, You can now become a fan of the Word of the Day on Facebook. It’s simple, and free, and sorta weird since some of you get this by e-mail, and seeing it on Facebook might be overkill. Well, you can just gloss over this link: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Word-of-the-Day/110889435603886. Pretend it’s a banner ad.

Today’s story was inspired by something I saw on Facebook where someone made a comment about “Dancing with the Stars.”

Today’s Word:

pelagic

As in:

The Discovery Channel, in anticipation of its next “Shark Week,” has decided to add a competition reality show to its roster of shark-related television specials.  Modeled after the hit “Dancing with the Stars,” “Dancing with the Sharks” will be debuting this summer.

Sharks are paired with skilled swimmers, whose job it is to teach various species of the cartilaginous fish underwater ballroom dancing. Each week, one of the swimmers is eliminated from the competition, which is not always a result of receiving the lowest number of votes, in the case of the swimmer who was partnered with a great white shark in week three.

To keep the competitors on their toes, (so to speak), and to assure that the biting is spread evenly between the humans, the partners switch between the species each week. Since the accident in week three, there have not been any serious injuries.

The specifics of the elimination and the injuries have not been released, as it would be considered a “spoiler,” for a competition that hasn’t yet been on the air.  As the competitor did not actually die, the producers felt it was not inappropriate to continue with the show’s debut.  They’ve even started to toy with the idea of advertising the show as, “less dangerous than the killer whale show at Sea World.”

The larger sharks have not taken well to the training, and tend to become aggressive when frustrated, which was not especially surprising to the show’s producers, who were hoping for an element of danger in the show. The producers got more than they bargained for, as it seems that the rigors of underwater dance training have proven to be especially irritating to the sharks.

While the dancer’s costumes are woven of bite-resistant mesh, occasionally, a difficult dance move is executed, putting an unprotected part in the way of a sharp tooth, which can lead to a follow-up frenzy, and the requisite shark wrangling.

Given the show’s pelagic setting, the traditional “live studio audience” has not been possible. Producers are considering moving the competition to various aquariums around the country. This is expected to reduce the production costs and bring attention to the nation’s “watery zoos,” which can aid in conservation efforts, and bring attention to the plight of sharks all over the world.

**************
Apparently, I’ve moved from zombies to various types of dancing fauna. That can’t be good, can it?

pelagic / peh – LAJ – ic / living in open oceans or seas; oceanic

When I started this week, I was ahead. Now, well, not quite so much. I’m really hoping to get more of this done Thursday before I go to bed, because I have to get up early again tomorrow, and take my car to the shop. I’m just not entirely sure I can afford it. Oh well. Part of life, I guess.

I failed to mention yesterday the fact that Magic Mountain was the park used for Wally World. Now you know. And knowing… Well, it’s what you do.

Of course, I only got the story half done last night and this morning before I had to get to work. I am now exhausted and poorer, but, have a car again.

Today’s Word:

telic

As in:

There seemed to be nothing left but to start the long journey back home. It seemed pointless to stay in this extremely strange and harsh land, but going back didn’t hold much appeal for either of them. Without any tangible evidence of their journey, no rewards or witnesses that would be of any use, it felt like a failure, and like they had simply created one more thing about themselves that others would mock.

However, having made the telic decision to return, both felt like it was the right one. They did have their map as a souvenir, and Hector had speared a map of Six Flags Magic Mountain from the ticket kiosk.

They made their way over miles of open country, and did their best to avoid populated areas. At last, they once again saw the visitor’s center where the helpful ranger had pointed them to California.

They decided to stop in again, for no particular reason, except perhaps, that this stop was the nicest part of their quest, and they had positive feelings about the place.

By some coincidence, or writerly intervention, they were greeted by the same ranger who helped them on their way.

“How was Magic Mountain?”

“Terrible.” said Marshall. “There was no actual mountain. We returned their sticks, across two worlds, and they gave us nothing but coupons. I thought that a Magic Mountain would have,you know, actual magic, and nothing! Not even some sort of cure for a dragon who hates to fly, or a chest of gold for facing a foreign and dangerous world.”

The park ranger took this all in. “Your kind can fly? Really? I’d have thought your proportions were all wrong for flying. Why, your weight alone shouldn’t be accommodated by those wings, no matter how strong you are. That seems to be pretty magical to me. Here, of course, our legends tell of many types of flightless dragons. Perfectly normal. Of course, I’ve also never heard of a dragon who was friends with a unicorn. Is that something normal in your world?”

Marshall looked at the man. He’d never heard of entire races of flightless dragons, nor had he ever thought that there were people in existence who had never expected him to fly. Well, maybe except for Hector. “I never thought about that. Are you sure you aren’t some sort of Oracle? I suppose next you’ll say something cryptic which will make sense later. Then you’ll say something lame and cliche like ‘the magic was part of you all along.’ Yuck.”

The ranger smiled. “That would be lame. Nope. Not an oracle. Just a proud member of the National Park Service. ”
 
After a nice visit, the two travelers found their stowed boat, paddled it out of the lake onto the river, and repeated the ritual that brought them to Yellowstone. Another terrifying plummet later, and they found themselves back in the cavern of passage, breathing the sub-terrestrial smells of home.

They tethered their boat on the appropriate stalagmite, and Hector feeling somewhat melancholy, said, “It feels strange to be home. It feels like it has changed, somehow.”

Marshall looked at him. “Or maybe Hector, it is us who have changed.” And then he burst out laughing. “Yeah. I guess I’m not going to be an Oracle anytime soon.”

“Who needs an Oracle?” laughed Hector. “Let’s go.”

As they entered their village, no one could believe they had returned. They were stared at, but, this time, no one jeered. It was a pleasant change. They went to find the Council, which conveniently, was available anytime the writer wanted them to be.

The large doors to the meeting hall swung open dramatically, the the two strode in down the center of the hall. The crowd, as if on cue, parted before the triumphant heroes.

This time, Marshall did not trip. “We have fulfilled our quest.”

Samson, dumbfounded, said, “Have you now. And what proof have you? Where are the spoils of Magic Mountain?”

Marshall showed him the maps. “This quest was not for spoils or glory. We both know that. It was a convenient way to ignore embarrassment. Hector and I will not longer be grist for your rumor mills. You will leave us to live in peace. We are not ashamed of ourselves, and we are not an embarrassment.” With that, he simply turned and walked out of the meeting hall, not even bothering to wait for a response. Hector followed.

After their return, the two were asked to recount their adventures often. Hector decided that they should write a manual for adventurers, with a whole chapter about how rope is not as important as everyone thinks it should be. They book was hugely popular, and Marshall and Hector opened a school for would-be adventures. Marshall never flew again. He didn’t need to.

In short, or perhaps long,  they lived happily ever after.

********************
Yeah, that should about cover everything.

telic / TEA – lick / tending toward an end or outcome. OK, it’s a little “on the nose,” but, I couldn’t resist.

It is April Fool’s day, and I forgot to plan anything. I suspect I was distracted by the great spaghetti harvest this year.

Also, I think I appreciate more fully why television shows with a narrative thread have “previously on” segments. They are as much for the writers as for the viewers. Geesh. Where were we again? That’s right. Disneyland.

Today’s Word:

spizzerinctum

As in:

Glumly the travelers turn north. Disneyland was NOT the happiest place on Earth. They spoke little, and in these worlds of concrete, food was much harder to come by, so they were losing weight and becoming less and less pleasant to be around, it was fortunate that only one of the two spoke any English.

They moved along, but they really no longer knew why they were doing it. They had lost any spizzerinctum they had at the gates of a strange kingdom where people lined up on lighted ships and waved at crowds. Even knowing that they were very near the end of their task didn’t help much. There were weeks of travel to come afterwards to return to their yellow cushion and the river. And then what? They’d still be laughed at by people who had never strayed so far as the Jimnic Mountains, much less seen one of those metallic monsters.

At last they saw signs of a place called “Six Flags Magic Mountain.” Marshall wondered if flags were some sort of currency, or offering needed for the Mountain, but didn’t say much, since Hector was especially touchy lately, more angry at himself for their mistake than Marshall had been.

Dutifully, they followed the signs. As they approached, they didn’t really see anything that looked like a mountain. They saw what looked like a graveyard of enormous creatures, the spines of which were twisted and exposed. There were several of these skeletons littering a large field between a couple of towers. There was a resting place where a large number of the metallic monsters lay dormant.

They saw no metallic trees of any kind. Both were becoming anxious that this wasn’t the place, and that they were no closer to completing their quest than they were to growing wheels and becoming one of the vile creatures that roamed the black stone ribbons.

With heavy hearts, the approached the gates at the edge of the graveyard. A human person sat in a small house. She said “Welcome to Six Flags Magic Mountain.”

Marshall stepped forward. From a hiding place he draw out the bundle of sticks, and placed them on the counter. He said, “We have come very far because of these things. Is this where they belong?”

The lady reached out to the keys. she turned them over and saw the tag. She looked quizzically at the odd companions who had brought them. “Yes, she said. “These are from here. Thanks.”  She slid the keys into a drawer.

The two just stood there, waiting expectantly. Surely there would be more to this transaction. Did she know how far they had traveled?

Marshall broke the awkward silence at long last. “Is there really a mountain of magic? One that grants wishes or favors or something?”

The girl looked really confused. “This is Magic Mountain. It’s an amusement park. There’s no actual mountain. You’d like a reward? Is that it? Well, I can offer you a 10% discount to ride the rides, which includes Hurricane Harbor. Did you bring bathing suits? Of course, I have no idea how you’d ride them, they’re not really built to accommodate… people of your sizes and shapes.”

The two of them just stood there. Not since the Griswolds had arrived at Wally World were there two more disappointed creatures standing on the treashold of a theme park.

“Would you like to buy your tickets now?”

Marshall looked at Hector. He felt utterly defeated. There was no Magic Mountain that would shower them with appreciation. The whole thing had been an utter waste. He simply walked away from the lady in the small house. Hector, very confused, but, not saying a thing, followed.

******************
Now what? well, as Joseph Campbell would tell you, there is still the Return…

spizzerinctum / spiz – er – INK – tum/ The will to succeed. Determination, zeal.

I’m writing this from the past, to be seen in the future, in a bid to stay ahead. By my calculations, it will arrive in your e-mail or on your screen on Wednesday, which means the week is half over for you,  and still beginning for me. Of course, I could also just be pretending.

Today’s Word:

lugubrious

As in:

The two travelers were making steady progress west. At night, they often took out their tourist map of California, and debated the best way to get to Magic Mountain. Hector was convinced that it must be part of the Magic Kingdom.

“It’s a whole kingdom of magic! Where else would it be? It’s probably a mountain right in the center of the kingdom, and you can see it anywhere in the land, and it’s probably sacred, and many are afraid of it and its might power.”

Marshall shook his head. “I think it’s this place, more to the north of that kingdom. We’re coming from the north, we can just stop by and check. It’s a long walk to that southern kingdom, and then we’ll save ourselves from back tracking all that way. This land is large, and I’m tired of all this walking.”

Hector insisted every chance he had that it had to be part of the Magic Kingdom. Marshall was losing resolve. 

After many long days of travel, Hector and Marshall saw a sight which filled them with hope that the long journey might soon be over. It was a simple road sign, but, it was the most beautiful thing either of them had ever seen. The sign “Welcomed” them to California. Now was the time to decide. Go  south, or check the northern option.

“Time to go south, I think,” said Hector.

And Marshall, tired of arguing, nodded, and they headed for the Magic Kingdom.

It took many days. The terrain had become very difficult and strange. The ground was mostly smooth stone, and fast moving creatures travelled along the black stone ribbons with yellow stripes. The creatures had metallic flesh and an aggressive temperament. They made loud bleating noises, and were, on the whole, terrifying.

Hector was tired of Marshall’s new lugubrious demeanor. He had been so looking forward to seeing this Magic Mountain, and now that they were so close, he’d turned downright depressing.

“Cheer up, friend! We’ll be there soon. The map says this Magic Kingdom is the Happiest Place on Earth. Between that and the end of our travels in this world of noise and stone ought to make you feel good enough to fly!”

Instantly, he knew he’d gone too far.

“What do you know about flying? Do you know that every time I fly, I feel ill? I hate the swooping sensations, and the lack of footing. It’s horrible for me! It’s easier to pretend I can’t fly than explain how much I hate it! I had hoped that this Magic Mountain might cure me, but, now, I’m not sure I even care. Now I just want out of this place.”

“I’m sorry Marshall. I… I didn’t mean it. Look. There! It’s that three circle emblem. We must be close!” Hector bowed his head, and nodded towards the sign. “You OK?”

“Yeah. Let’s get this over with.” Marshall’s eyes didn’t meet Hector’s.

The sun was setting, and the park seemed to be alive with activity, as it appeared that the parade was forming. Hector and Marshall had no idea what to do, so they approached the gates.

“Aha! Very good costumes! hurry up, you’re on the Fantasy of Light float. Line up over there!” The two nodded, and got in line.

“Costumes? He thinks these are costumes? What is this place?” Hector looked confused.

“Just go with it. I think we’d better not push this one…” said Marshall.

They lined up for the parade, and from their vantage point along the parade route, they saw a few possible candidates for *the* Mountain, but everything seemed very wrong. They decided to ask someone after the parade.

“Excuse me,” asked Marshall cautiously. “Do you know where Magic Mountain is?”

“You’re at Disneyland. You were in the parade. How dare you mention Magic Mountain here?!” He marched off in disgust.

Marshall found another person, and tried a different approach. “Have you ever been to Magic Mountain?”

“Yeah. Great coasters. It’s up north. In Valencia, part of Santa Clarita.

The dreaded answer had been given. They had made the wrong choice.

Marshall had no idea what a coaster was, but, he did know that it was going to be another long trek across unyielding stone paths.

*******************
We’re getting closer, I think. The future is exhausting, by the way.

lugubrious / lug – OO – bree – us /  mournful, especially exaggeratedly or affectedly mournful.

So, if you had to get to Magic Mountain from Yellowstone, and you didn’t know where Magic Mountain was, what would you do?

I’m really asking, here folks. Help a sister out, will ya?

Okay, fine. I’ll just make something up.

Today’s Word:

benison

As in:

Finding the lake shore sign less than helpful, the two visitors tried to figure out their next move.

“Well,” said Marshall, “The map says there’s a Visitor’s Center. If there’s anyone who fits the description of ‘visitor’ more than we do, well, them I’d like to meet.”

After stowing their boat, and way home, Off towards the visitor’s center they went. Fortunately for them, they happened to make it during business hours, and found a helpful park ranger.

“We’re looking for the Magic Mountain.” Said Marshall.

“Which one?” said the park ranger, who looked quizzically at the strange manner of creatures asking him questions, but did not seem the least bit plussed at their fantastical natures.

Marshall was taken aback. “He wants to know which one.”

Hector was not prepared for there to be more than one. “Ask him to tell us where to find the closest one.”

Marshall relayed Hector’s question. The ranger said, “That would probably be the one in Idaho. You need to go west, and a little north.” He pulled out some maps. “See. It’s located near Idaho Falls. Of course, it’s not ski season, so, they’re probably not open.”

“Open? Marshall asked. “A mountain can close?”

“Sure. If it’s a resort mountain. Hmm. You’re probably wanting the one in California, though. That’s the one I really think of when someone says ‘Magic Mountain.’ I’d recommend heading there. It’s also west.” He pulls out another map. “it’s not on this California map, but you can take it. It was left here last year by some guy. Of course, when you get closer to a city, you might want to just ask Google.”

“Google?” asked Marshall, very confused by the word. “Is that an Oracle of some kind?”
 
“Uhhh. You don’t know Google? Where are you from? Outer space? Next you’re going to tell me your friend here is named Charlie, and you’re not taking him to Magic Mountain, you’re going to see Candy Mountain. Don’t go Charlie!”

“Charlie? No, my friend is called Hector. We’ve from Malicovia.” said Marshall “I don’t think that’s outer space, but, it is another world. You have been very helpful. I would like to leave you a benison of some sort. How about: ‘May your scales never itch, and your wings never falter.’ That is a powerful blessing amongst my people.”

Armed with a map and a plan, the two head west.

****************
I’m feeling a bit startled that we can see the end of March from here. Where did the time go?

benison / BEN – eh – zen / blessing, benediction

Our intrepid heroes have faced the terror of the churning river, a gnome, an Oracle, and, worst of all, their parents. Today they venture to the heart of the Jimnic Mountains where they will attempt the Ritual of Whatever-it-was, to send them into our world to find Magic Mountain. I know it’s been keeping you up at night, all weekend, a cocktail of anxiety and anticipation. Maybe that was just me.

Today’s Word:

intermerate

As in:

Marshall’s memory was impeccable, and the two arrived in the Jimnic Mountains. There was a sign and everything. The passage through the mountains was a tad trickier, there were lots of gaps that looked like they might be passages, but proved to be just pretending. At long last, they found the only actual passage through the treacherous mountains.

Near the edge of the passage, there was a large Cavern, which they decided must be the Cavern of Passage. It was filled with stalactites and stalagmites. In the back of the cavern was a pool, and it fed into an underground river.

In the pool were several springy, yellow, cushiony things, which looked like they might actually be boats of some kind. 

On the edge of the pool was a podium-like thing, which someone from our world might call an “interpretive sign.” Written on the sign, in the many languages of the realm, was instructions for preforming the Ritual of Pulwasup.

Hector shook his head. “I’m actually feeling ashamed. This seems too simple. There’s probably a catch, right, like one of us has to lose a body part or something? I’m losing all respect for adventurers. No only have we not needed any rope at any point, but, there are *signs.* Actual signs. Anybody can do this.”

They located the blue stalagmite. Tied to this particular stalagmite was one of the yellow boats. They got into the boat, and following the instructions on the interpretive sign, they paddled the boat into the underground river and said the ritual words. Soon they were floating down the river toward what sounded like a massive waterfall.

“I think that would be the catch,” said Hector. “Hang on!”

So, just like the Marshall family on a routine expedition, the coincidentally named Marshall and his best friend, Hector rode a raft from a mystical cavern, and plunged down a mighty waterfall. In the middle of their perilous ride, they met a sparkling mist, and the air changed, and when they landed they were no longer on an underground river, they were outside on a calm lake, surrounded by foreign geography.

Looking around, they saw an intermerate wilderness, a beautiful natural landscape. The sun was setting, and they thought they might be the only ones on the lake.

The had arrived in a new world. With any luck, this world would be the one with the Magic Mountain, where they could complete this quest, and go on to whatever happens to adventurers when their quests are completed.

They paddled to the shore, were they met a few creatures that looked like the humans in their home world. The humans starred.

Marshall spoke, hoping that he could remember some of the phrases he had studied of this language. The humans fled.

“That was unexpected. I guess I didn’t pick the correct phrase of greeting.” Marshall looked confused. “Maybe we can find a sign.”

Sure enough, near where the humans had fled, there was a sign, bearing the same markings as the sticks. The sign declared their current location as Yellowstone Lake, but, nowhere on the map was there a label announcing a place called Magic Mountain. 

**********************
Finally, they have arrived in our world. And yet, they are many, many miles from Magic Mountain.

Today is also the anniversary of Andy Hallett’s death of CHF.   I will be wearing green in his memory.  He was only 33.

intermerate / in – TER – mer – ate / pure, unspoiled

I have become increasingly uncertain as to the purpose of this introduction. It used to be the part where I stalled to come up with a story idea. Occasionally it was the part where I simply procrastinated and avoided getting into the story. Lately, I’m feeling that the introduction needs some actual thought. What does it do? Is it simply a habit that has overstayed its welcome?

While there’s a multi-part story going one, like the Oscars and this epic tale of a clumsy dragon and the unicorn of short stature who is his pal, is seems to serve as a bit of a “previously on,” which is perhaps, useful. I guess, if it’s not, you can just skip onto…

Today’s Word:

couloir

As in:

The two travelers arrived at the end of te river, and in the distance saw the Oracle’s island. There was no convenient passage to reach it. The current was swift and the water deep.

“If you make one syllable in the direction of ‘How about we just fly over there,’ I will tear your eyes out.” said Marshall.

“Why would I even bother when you already made such a syllable.?” Hector replied.

“Ha. Ha. So, baring the miracle of flight, do you have any brilliant ideas on getting across?”

“No. Perhaps this is where we decide to chuck the sticks back into the river and forget the whole thing. We’d be taking a stab at being much more character driven than plot driven. I’m good with that. Really, I am.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious about this Magic Mountain? Maybe it’s sparkly and made of swirly colors! Or Maybe it’s covered in silver trees, and can help numb skulls like me fly.”

“You’re not a numb skull. I’m starting to think that this Magic Mountain is some colossal joke cooked up to send us traipsing all over a million different worlds. There’s got to be a boat around here somewhere. certainly, there’s never been a hint that the Oracle discriminates against the flightless. If she does, well, I’m filing a complaint. As soon as I find someone who gives a crap.”

Sure enough, hidden in a tide pool, there was a boat, tethered to a little dock. a sigh was posted. “Oracle ferry. Back in 10 minutes. maybe 15. Make it 20.”

So, they waited. about 30 minutes later, a small figure emerged from the forest. He looked like some sort of gnome, but, neither had ever met a gnome, and had thought them to be fairy tails.

“You want to go over there, do you? It’ll cost you in more than gold.”

“We don’t have any gold. If it costs, we’re done and outta here.” said Hector, hope rising.

“He! Don’t be like that. How come no one ever comes with money? Geeesh. Fine. I’ll take you. Not that I had anything better to do.”

The gnome, or whatever it was, navigated the waters easily, and delivered then to the Oracle. “I’ll wait for you here,” he looked less than convincing.

They entered the Oracle chamber. It looked like all the Oracle chambers you’ve seen in movies, cavern-like, With some rough columns in a sort of circle, and dingy, with some ancient looking carvings, and, some weird bubbling smoking cauldron.

“Hello?” Marshall tried to draw out whatever manner of creature was living in this hole. Why did Oracles seems to live in such ridiculous places?

From out of nowhere the Oracle emerged. “Find the couloir in the Jimnic Mountains. You will find the Cavern of Passage. Seek the blue stalagmite, and perform the Ritual of Pulwasup while in the yellow cushion, and you will find the Magic Mountain. Take your swim suit. Get your hand stamped to be re-admitted. Flying is overrated. ” She sounded bored. “Thank you, come again.”

****************
This took a long time, because, I couldn’t figure out how to get them across the stupid river. Good grief.

couloir / cool – WAR / a steep mountainside gorge, or a passage through the mountains.

Greetings from snowy Denver. Many people got a snow day, I got a snow half-day, and have to go in at noon. so, I slept in a bit, and shoveled a bit, and am hoping I can get this all done before I meander to work. I am also hungry, but, that’s not particularly relevant.

When we left our heroes, they had been given an impossible quest, as a sacrifice to keeping the peace between two warring races. Today, the quest begins…

Today’s Word:

prorogue

As in:

Marshall and Hector left the meeting hall, and walked out of the village, saying nothing. As soon as they were out of the glow of the village fires, they stopped, and stared at the road stretching before them. It looked longer than it ever had, and instead of feeling inviting, it was throwing rotten vegetables.

“Now what?” asked Hector.

“No idea. Usually in these sorts of stories, the wise council gives the intrepid band of misfits something more useful than, get the heck out of town, and don’t let the fact that we’re sending you off to die keep you from hurrying off to that particularly grisly fate,” grumbled Marshall. He paused.

“I’ve heard that there is a place that grants passage to other worlds, but I don’t know how to find it.” Marshall looked defeated. “With our luck, it’s one of those dragon places that can only be accessed by flying.”

Hector looked at him. “You will fly one day, and if it’s the only way to get out of this mess, then, we’ll figure it out. Probably.”

“I’ve heard that there is an oracle on an island, where the river meets the ocean. Maybe she will be more useful than the Council. Conveniently, it’s also not a path we have to find, we just follow the river. It’ll also be convenient to prorogue any actual need to fly, or any decision on simply abandoning this whole quest, and just never come back to this crappy place,” said Hector.

The two followed the river for a few miles, until it was really and truly dark. They found food, a place to stop for the night. In the morning, they pressed on.

They didn’t talk much. Marshall eventually risked a question. “Why do they hate us so much? Are we really *that* embarassing?”

“Of course we are!” said Hector. “We’re annoying because we’re proof that our species can co-exist. Of course, they’d like to believe it’s because we’re defective, which makes our friendship just another one of our disabilities. I, for one, find it to be my favorite ‘short-coming.’ ” Hector smiled at his friend, who couldn’t help but laugh.

***************
I had planned to only have this tale carry on for five days, but, I couldn’t seem to make it fit, and hit all the bits of my outline. So, I think it’ll be going for a full two weeks. I’m stunned, too.

prorogue / pro – ROGUE / 1. to discontinue a session of (i.e. parliment or Congress) 2.to postpone or defer.