I was Thinking, or Not

A Prattle Brain Mystery “The matron of the arts is here to see you sir,” the girl said. “Well then, send her in, send her in” the man said. “To what do I owe this honor?” asked the man? “We are very interested in your recent acquisitions,” the matron said. “We were curious if you were interested in allowing the Guild to present them in a private show.” “Ah, I see, for the benefit of the Guild perhaps” asked the man? “Yes, well yes, for the Guild, but also for the House as well, of course” said the matron. “Only in a private show then, not a public show,” the man said. “The content is such that we do not feel that it would benefit the commoner in that manor, however it could be if you so desired, as the House may wish it,” said the matron. “Yes as the House may wish it, that is perhaps the most precise manor in which you could present it,” said the man. “Can we count on your participation?” The matron asked. “Perhaps, I should want to think of the subject yet.”

Never Worried Too Much About The Spelling I have never had a first place ribbon for anything. I have never won a competition nor achieved any stature for much of anything. I can not think of anything that would really distinguish myself from the crowd. Yet here I sit, and I know that if I were in a crowd that I would be known, at least by someone. I have accomplished nothing, I have rose to no occassions, I have lived an uneventful life, where does this recognition come from? A long time ago in a place I barely remember, there was something for me to hold on to. Now all that is gone, I am an ordinary man in an ordinary world, wondering how could it all have slipped away. There just out of sight in the, I have no idea where this was headed. Goodbye my friends, I love you all. Jibberish, babbling blind man. From where do you hail? To where do you wander? How does it feel? It’s been such a long, long time In the mist of Avalon, There is a girl I once knew