The Showman’s Hat Droops

Come one, come all! Come see the freaks of nature survive in a world they didn’t create! See the man who can communicate only through his taste buds attempt to navigate a world of sound! Laugh as the human camel frolics among the clover! Shock as a child no older than the sun burns you with ice the color of joy!

Thank you, ma’am, thank you! Two bits, sir, and yes, thank you! Step this way, and step lively! Into the tent!

I hope you all have iron-clad stomachs, for tonight, I shall show you wonders!

…I said, wonders!

Mel. Psst, Mel! You’re supposed to let the freaks out!

What do you mean, I never wrote them in? Continue reading “The Showman’s Hat Droops”

Worldseed in My Hands

I hold the worldseed in my hands. It is the beginning of every story, the possibility of myriad roads through countless lands under untold stars.

I hold my new child.

Today I have set aside the tall, tall hat of the showman and the cigarette of the worldstore salesman. Today I am simply me, a father holding his child, gazing into the face of the impossible.

She is not my first child. All my children were like this, though. Every child has this. So many possibilities that the chains of what-could-be stretch from her like bright threads in a web so thick it is hard to move her.

Do you see, can you fathom, how many stories lie here in my hands? Continue reading “Worldseed in My Hands”