“If you were smart, you’d figure out more about the beanstalk through Wyatt in Missouri.”
“Who’s there? Who’s that?”
Pause. “Wilson,” she decided to say.
—–
I’m not sure why I liked thunderstorms at night so much but when they came I almost inevitably found myself outside exploring the roads and byways of Tousaint, drenched or not. Tonight was no exception.
Maybe it was the lack of people around to distract me from my thoughts but these beaten paths weren’t very populated even in the center of the day so that wasn’t much of a reason. And I didn’t mind chatting with an occasional acquaintance or even friend I might meet along the way. Good way to keep up with gossip about the realm.
So what was it?
Sometimes my new dog Chomp would follow me onto the road during these nights but would always turn back upon the first loud thunderclap. That one time I took graytop mushrooms before going out, putting the green after it instead of before for a change, alchemically speaking. “Damn!!” he issued loudly in a surprisingly feminine voice for such a butch appearing mutt at the initial boom. “I’m out of here, boss!” and hightailed back home. That’s when I decided to put the grey before the green more often and listen to what he had to say. A lot as it turned out! He seemed to know more about the realm than any single person for sure. And even beyond its borders, far far beyond…
Sunklands 