Why I Can’t Sleep

January 10, 2007 – 2:20

 

hypnos

Hypnos. A vengeful bastard, if ever there was one.

 

 

Hypnos is a gentle and benevolent god who sometimes takes the form of a singing bird, sometimes that of a winged youth or old man. He carries a drinking horn, from which he pours sleep-inducing opium. He is most beloved of the Muses, and his spouse is Pasithea, one of the Charities. Together they have three children, Morpheus, Phobetor, and Phantasus who occupy the dreams of men. Morpheus appears in human form in our dreams, Phobetor as birds and animals, and Phantasus as all the animate objects of our dreams”

Hypnos awoke from his sleep and stretched his arms, feeling the warmth of the sun bathing him through his open window and smiled. Pasithea is still sleeping soundly beside him as he rubs his eyes and turns towards the clock radio beside their bed.

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Tiny Dancer 1

January 7, 2007 – 0:09

Shoes

There was a time, so very long ago, when a King decided that no one
should dance in his Kingdom. He wasn’t a cruel King. In fact, his
people loved him so much that when he decreed one day that “Dancing,
in all forms, shall be outlawed, forthwith, and forsooth!” they, hung
their heads and puffed their cheeks, but said nothing except to say.
“Our poor King!” In the streets, the children could not understand why
there King would want to stop then dancing. They ran to there mothers
and fathers and cried “why can we not dance? Does the King not like to
see us dance?” There fathers looked solemnly away, up towards the
Castle walls, while their mothers clutched them close and whispered
gently in their ears.

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Tiny Dancer 2

January 7, 2007 – 0:08

Sleepygirl

 

Beneath the heavy flagstones of the Kings Throne room a light was
shining. It was dim, and flickering and threw only enough warmth to
let anyone who was watching see two small figures sitting by the table
it stood upon. Before them, a small fireplace was flickering the red
dying embers of a wood fire. Before it stood a small fireguard, over
which were thrown a pair of tiny trousers and a white linen shirt,
both far to small to fit even the smallest child. Perhaps maybe a
child’s doll. The smaller of the two figures rose from it’s seat and
lifted a small black kettle from its place by the fire and poured her
father another cup of hot dandelion tea. Her father took it in his
hands and smiled at his daughter.

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Tiny Dancer 3

January 7, 2007 – 0:07

Seated

 

Damione was fast asleep, snoring gently in his bunk across from
Gracie’s’ little bed. The room was dark now, the only light coming
from the pinpricks of red glowing embers that came from the fireplace.
As she watched the last dying stars of the fireplace tumbled into one
another, flared briefly, and then quenched themselves in the ash,
throwing their small room into darkness. The sound of her fathers
breathing, and her own heartbeat, were the only sounds to be heard.
Gracie Dressed herself slowly, quietly, mindful of waking her father
who would not approve of her night time excursions. She put on her
white thistledown shirt and tied her favorite mouse hair pantaloons
with the piece of human hair twine that she had platted into a belt.
She took a moment to pause and listen to the inky blackness, to the
soft, steady breathing of her father, before reaching under her bed
for the box.

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Tiny Dancer 4

January 7, 2007 – 0:06

Crow 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

High on the highest turret of the castle, Dromad, the black crow
picked at his stone black feathers with an old, cracked beak,
momentarily letting his piercing gaze fall from the splintered window
that looked down over the great hall. Righting himself, he flustered
his long narrow feathers and peered back into the scene below. His
old crow bones creaked as he leaned further in as he watched the tiny
dancer disappear beneath the beams of the steepled roof. He snorted,
and tested the air with his beak, throwing his black ball head back
and letting out a throaty Caww that threatened to rattle the very
tiles from the roof tops. Dromad was announcing his presence to the
sky. He turned, and unfurling his great dark wings to beat the wind
beneath them. The wind seemed to pause, then turn and then push it’s
silent form beneath his wings to lift the fearsome creature into the
night.

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