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May 17, 2005

The Eschatologist: Confessions

Old, bearded Bertilak could feel the weight of age bearing down as he stared into the roaring firepit, sparks twinkling in his wild eyes for the last time.

"Damned fool," he muttered, leaning on his Danish axe for support. He stroked his chin with a green-hued hand, running his fingers through whiskers that his wife, many years dead, had chided him as resembling a beaver.

He chuckled quietly as he recalled her quick wit and quicker tongue, knowing he'd be joining her soon. Despite his sins, this was no way, he mused, for a Knight to come to his end.

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Comments

EXCELLENT!

Posted by: Laurence Simon at May 17, 2005 5:02 PM · Permalink

Lovely! Will Sir Gawain come back to do the deed?

Posted by: Sue at May 17, 2005 7:02 PM · Permalink

I was hoping someone would get it! I wavered hard on how subtle to be...

Posted by: The Eschatologist at May 17, 2005 8:01 PM · Permalink