The collected writings of Christopher Ames.
Two men inside, but such a rowdy night!
We've seen more clear sky working than we ought
A drink to cloud your vision, am I right?
The disguised same has no pleasure to give
So what is it you need if not your ale?
To speak, to stray, to lose, to love, to live!
Then sit, and let me tell you both a tale ...
Novels
The
night was young and the sky unclouded, a pity. He never was
one for "staying out", but few others would journey through storms
to a dusty tavern on the outskirts of town. Only the barkeeper knew
him as a tall glass of their cheapest to hide behind. A field mouse
would envy his quill scurrying across the aged parchment. Perhaps
not; it didn't always come easily. It didn't stop him trying. So
in
lieu of distant laughter he focused on his long forgotten dream
and
scribbled words that would one day guide the world.
“I reject your reality, and substitute my own.” – Paul Bradford, the Dungeonmaster (1985)