Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

I never could figure out how to end this story

One day Brother Edward, on one of his many walks around the countryside, happened to enter Hell, which was located in a cave near the three standing stones at Marlburgh (you can still see soot in the roof of the cave and, on windy days, hear the screams of the damned). It was raining, and he went into the cave seeking shelter, expecting to find at most a bear or a deranged hermit, both of which he had dealt with in the past with the help of the small bottle of brandy he always carried with him.

Imagine his surprise, then, when upon entering the cave he was greeted by none other than that old deceiver of men, the Devil, who was sitting at a table so filled with the most delicious-looking food imaginable that some of the lesser delicacies were in danger of falling off the table (most notably, he later recounted, a large bunch of grapes which was hanging off the edge of the table and a big red cheese which was only kept from falling to the floor by a minor demon, who was propping it up with a pitchfork).

"Won't you share my meal, Brother Edward?" the Devil said, waving a leg of mutton in the general direction of a second chair on the opposite side of the table.

"No thank you," Brother Edward said, "I'd rather just eat this piece of stale bread which I brought with me, if you don't mind."

The Devil, being the prince of Lies, could not say that he did mind, seeing as that would have been the truth, so instead he said "Well, won't you at least sit down?" (since questions don't have a truth value, he felt quite safe saying anything as long as it was framed as a question).

"No thank you," Brother Edward said, "I'd rather keep standing, if you don't mind."

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Ofelia Saunders and her Imaginary Saxophone Orchestra, Part One

“Then I saw the host of angels; their wings were like the wings of grasshoppers, and when they rubbed their wings together, this was the music of the spheres, which I had heard in my dreams, and which I hear today, in the sound of this wondrous instrument of Monsieur Sax's creation.”

An extract from the diary of Ms Saunders. The first page is missing.