2002-07-31 10:13 a.m. There are many things said about the blind Frog King. He lives in the brick castle just next to the steps that lead out of the back door of the house. The rumor whispered most often is that he is blind because of his own malice. If the berries by the back fence have fermented and the finches are hungry, you can sometimes catch them when they're inebriated. Before they take to the sky (and invariably one or two of them will soar head-first into the house's back window, snapping their tender necks), you might hear them talk about the young Frog King and how he could see as a youth. At some point, he became blind. Some say that he lost his sight through an act of will. He awoke one day, mean and cunning, and decided that in order to better oppose his Frog opponents he would stop seeing. Blind, he would protect his heart from weakness should the looks of horror on their faces make him weaken as he cut them down to clear his way to the throne. But what of their cries of pain, I asked. Would not these too pluck at his conscience? Apparently not, answered a finch, burping discretely under its wing. The blind King wears metal spurs on his legs and glasses over his unseeing eyes. His moist skin smells of blood. He and his servants, each nightfall, ride out into the back yard in search of the other two Kings. Their long tongues snap out through vegetation at every suspicious noise. |
1. today is nice 3. happy yesterdays 8. thanks for hosting 4. doing other things |
(Proof that I am the only one reading.) |