Deep Magic and Suspicion

Intellectual Shaman

The mouth smiled, like it was full of slivers, uncomfortable, and upsetting, pulled tight, like a distorted mask. -Intellectual Shaman

“Giles, what do I pay you for?”

The master reclined in his library, intent on study. Anyone who gazed at his face saw a hole that had swallowed the darkest secrets of the universe, and kept them hidden.

The butler approached, carrying a silver tray. He was thin, wiry, and bent at the joints as if his bones were connected to rubber bands.

“Oyster soup with lemon grass salad and a glass of 68. Will there be anything else, sir?”

“No, that’ll be all Giles. Your late father always knew how to be on time.”

“His passing was regrettable.”

“He was a man of dignity, who kept perfect pace with his responsibilities. In 15 minutes, I want two scoops of chilled orange sherbet, a cup of steaming black coffee, and…

View original post 74 more words

we would love to hear from you!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.