On the theme of “Reservation,” why not write about one of the greatest social enigmas of all–getting to know a stranger? And what if that stranger just happened to be the world’s most savage literary critic, Edgar Allan Poe? Wallie and I decided to explore the reservations between strangers (and not-quite strangers) meeting for the first time.
There is a superstition amongst players that a performance of Macbeth brings ill luck on the company. We had just given a performance that I remember, when I first met him. It was a poor season and perhaps we knew we were not at our best, but we gave it what we could on tight, empty bellies, breathing cold air through cold noses and making fine gestures with numb hands. The winter was bitter and had worked itself into our bones. But it was not the play nor the weather that troubled us. It was a villain with a pen, Mr. Edgar Allan Poe.
Wallie the Imp loves all sorts of weather. He is not particularly fond of rainy days and clouds, but he understands that they are a part of life without which all goblins and imps would die. So in honor of the four changing seasons, and to meet today’s Daily Post prompt, Wallie has applied to his penniless artistic friends for aid. One of them rose to the little fellow’s challenge. Here we share the result. It is not what we expected. To be fair, it never is.
Wallie the Imp and I were somewhat confused by today’s Daily Post prompt. Wallie refuses to let me call him a pet. Imps are not pets. They are personalities.
We had the good fortune to know a friend of a friend who does in fact own a small cat. He was good enough to send us material to help us with our post, promising a poem that would perfectly sum up his feelings for his animal friend.
Wallie the Imp has always had a strange fascination for mad artists. I suppose he should. After all, he tells me he has personally met Byron, the Phantom of the Opera, and of course, Edgar Allan Poe. For the first and last, he tells me he was a creative muse. Continue reading →