![]() ![]() I finished it just a couple of years ago, much after Kronikles. That’s what happens when you do too much mythology. First it was love, then pathos and finally philosophy. ![]() ![]() The old family sword with the beautiful hilt was my scimitar and my towel magically turned into a cape.Īs I grew older, I started poetry. The swivel chair of my study desk was my chariot drawn by flaming horses. I would sleep on her soft arm and she would tell me stories of my forefathers and how they were great rulers of their lands, how they hunted in the forest and chased after robbers, how fairly they treated their farmers and how everyone in the village used to eat in our castle. I loved my other grandparent, my paternal grandmother. I would correct her, much to the amusement of my mother and grandparents. Her story would become slurred and her facts would be all wrong. Halfway through the story, she’d dose off. ![]()
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