It has been a long time since Wallie last posted anything. For this he apologizes. It has not been an easy November (or December) for the poor little imp. This is our response to the Daily Prompt–relating a time when ‘everything seemed to be going wrong and then, suddenly, you knew it would be right.’
This didn’t necessarily happen to ourselves. Sometimes, you have to meet the real world with fantasy. So: ‘The Mouth of Wagoc.’
Wallie the Imp has a soft spot for fairy tales. I suppose that has something to do with his being, to all intents and purposes, a horrible little goblin himself. He says this story is fairy-tale-telling at its best. And while his opinion is usually off the wall, this time I quite agree.
It’s one of those days. A phone call (or none). A letter. A cloud over the tree. Wallie the Imp and I are not our usual cheerful selves. And as usual, when no spoken word can work out the knots in a melancholy mood, the written word sometimes comes through just right. It’s time for contemplation, an apocalypse, a woman not of this world and a man who very much is. It’s time for a little low music.
Wallie the Imp likes to read. In Impland, Imps admire books for their practical usefulness: you can read them, write in them, and chew on them. Wallie tells me that nothing tastes better than a nicely yellowed paperback.
Wallie the Imp and I were walking through campus to meet my Friend. Wallie has a marvelous skill for not being noticed by strangers, so I was able to keep him with me. I daresay everyone thought I was a little off center for walking about speaking rudimentary Impish, but I had out my mobile, my cell phone, as a prop, and that made it all better.