the girl was, indeed, another hiding from the wretched grasp of the murder and did, as well, know the words of the bard i didst speak to her.

any companionship was cut short, however, when in the diner came my nemeses.  caliban and sycorax.  a mother and a child.  a pair of monsters that were neither of those things.  by any name, a rose may yet prick, and pretty feathers may hide the rotten state.

i confess i was not in my right mind when they first arrived.  i rushed to my pack and removed a molotov and tried to light it, crying out, "the villainy you teach me, i will execute, and it shall go hard, but i will better the instruction".

in my rage, i had unfortunately forgotten that society tends to frown on threatening a mother and her young boy with a fuel-based incendiary weapon.  the patrons of the diner, however, had not.

i was knocked to the ground, a large man--one of the cooks--and a pair of college students holding me down.  they were shouting at me but i was too blind with rage to remember what it was they said.

"you have a pentiful lack of wit!  they are both monsters!"  i snarled at them, not helping my case and fighting to get free.   "fortune, giveth me a measure of revenge!"

the hag and her spawn looked at me, smirking behind their feigned fear.  all they had needed to undo me was arrive, and allow my rage to hang me. i now saw its folly, of allowing myself the grip of the eumenides.  i hoped that cordelia would be able to forgive me as her namesake had forgiven lear.

my resignation was postponed, however, by the timely arrival of my new friend, and her taser.  a pop and the smell of ozone signaled my freedom as she pulled me away in the confusion even as the cook went limp.  the students tried for me again, but she pulled me back, into the kitchen.

i confess, i was not, perhaps, in my right mind, as i continued to pull back, towards the diner's main room.  hoping for another chance to end them, i suppose.

any thoughts in that direction, however, were mitigated when we reached the back door, and she threw it open.

in place of an alley, all we saw was a storm-swept beach, extending to the eye's limit.

we are trapped in this accursed place now.  we have closed the kitchen door and engaged the bolt on it.  the witch and her monster child are on the other side, with all those people.  no doubt poisoning them against us....accusing us of this...witchcraft.  if they are not slaying them outright.

i confess, i know not what to do.  this young woman saved my life, and to repay her, i have dragged her directly to my very own hell.

a sad tale's best for winter

they have been following me.

a mother and child, in form though not in spirit.

they are vile beasts, worse, perhaps, than the unclean creatures they have nestled within.

i suppose it was only a matter of time.  the mother and the child.  caliban and sycorax.

i remember seeing  them for the first time.  i remember cordelia, dearest cordelia, running in fear from them.  i remember regan and goneril laughing at her.  but there was something in me, a twist of sympathy.

i could not laugh.  i could only see her pain and

a bird just hit the window.

i am in a diner, making use of free wifi and unlimited coffee, my true dark mistress.

i do not know if it was one of the murder.

however....

another here, a slim, dark haired maiden, showed more than normal concern upon seeing the truth behind the sudden noise.  indeed, she appears to regard the twitching frame of the broken animal with a touch more fear than revulsion...and also appears to be looking for more where that one came from.

this may be a trap.

however, if i can help her...perhaps that will go a measure towards what i am indebted to dearest cordelia.

i remember the day she came to school, looking over her shoulder, nearly tripping over herself.  i remember that we laughed at her because we hated her, because she and her friends oppressed us so.

i didn't realize what it was she was fearing.  who would notice it?  when is the last time you noticed birdsong?  perhaps, while trying to sleep?  perhaps actively enjoying it?

unless looking  for it, one never really notices it unless one needs to.  it is a noise ambient to humanity.

to this day, i do not know what she did to get the murder's attention.  to this day, i do not know why sycorax and caliban came after her, and brought my ruin in their wake.  to this day, i do not know why i decided to help her.  why i, unlike my friends, chose her over the birds.

i would lie if i said i have never regretted it.  there were other options for me.  i could have put my head down.  pretended it had not happened.  gone about my life pretending there were no monsters, that humanity is alone, in the dark.

sometimes i wish i had.  but then, what would her sacrifice have been?  i know of them.  i can spread the word.  tell her story.  i can kill them as they come.  perhaps i can even destroy sycorax and caliban--that wretched witch and her accursed spawn.  it would, perhaps, be the only revenge i could get for her.  the only closure i could achieve for my dearest cordelia.

and then, one day, perhaps i will be fortunate enough to die as she did, and perhaps, someone will take my place, tell my story, and warn the world of the shadows in our ambiance.