And though I had slain a thousand foes less one,
The thousandth knife found my liver;
The thousandth enemy said to me,
'Now you shall die,
Now none shall know.'
And the fool, looking down, believed this,
Not seeing, above his shoulders, the naked stars,
Each one remembering.
--John M. Ford, The Final Reflection

The Asylum Director

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"The only thing I was fit for was to be a writer, and this rested solely on my suspicion that I would never be fit for real work, and that writing didn't require any." - Russel Baker

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

I bid you...welcome.


This is VIII of Swords, my other little corner of the internet. Unlike conventional blogs, I’m not going to waste people’s time talking about my boring, uninteresting life and the people in it. I also don’t plan on taking it into the politics and such mainly because there’s too many of them around already. So here’s my idea: blog fiction. Certainly far less public than a site like FictionPress, Mediaminer or but it works for me. Quality over quantity might be here but you never know what sort of person might stumble on this place. Besides, I already have my other website Shadow Rhapsody for my thoughts on things.

Warning: There isn’t even a title yet, so beware. I’m not even sure where to take it yet. So no, I won't put it in here yet.

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