Macedonian Nights- review

Long ago, in ancient Greece, the evil Lykaon of Athens was writing abominations of Old Comedy which permanently scarred the reputation of the Dionysian Festival. But then, one fine spring day, while walking in the marketplace in Athens, he stopped and thought.

"Wait a minute!" he said. "I could do so much more in settings outside Athens and Greece than those damned tragedians ever did!" So off the evil Lykaon of Athens went to write Macedonian Nights, the only surviving work of his, but only on account of the fact that, despite being in a thousand fragments, it stands out as the most terrible Ancient Greek comedy ever performed, and his most evil abomination back then. Now, in this farcical production at Hampstead Theatre, all the awfulness of the original comedy has been restored, and, despite the fragments, discovered by the mad archaeologist Wilson Ford in 1983, we can fully work out the plot.

It centres on a trio of young men living in Macedon and their farcical misadventures; farting, having sex and generally being a pain in the neck to everyone else. But these young men, Lycius, Antipotmos and Zithos, do their stupidity in style, so much so that the gods take notice of their drunken antics and decide to punish them in equally stupid ways. The fun gets out of control, when Zithos has sex with the priestess of Zeus, which serves as the fatal catalyst for all the horrible punishments that result.

Now, I love Ancient Greek comedy as much as the next man, but this is the absolute worst. It’s filled with nothing but bum jokes, sex jokes, horse jokes, murder jokes, and defilement of horse jokes. Things like, what, sixteen-year-olds making fun of middle-aged men’s weight are considered by Lykaon to be humorous. The scene where they accidentally kidnap a baby seems forced and heartless. "You kidnapped my baby," cries the angry nurse. "What do we bloody care?" cry the young men. The comedic raping of Zeus' priestess is interesting, especially because it predates the infamous rape scene in A Clockwork Orange by two-thousand years but also has Antipotmos sing a song during it called "Singing on a Wheel", which, due to the melody being lost, is set to the tune of "Singin' in the Rain" in order to amp up the humour.

And don’t me started on the stupid ending. You know the endings of animated films where everyone starts dancing at the end? Well, imagine that but where everyone is having sex with everyone else, and you get the dumbest, most idiotic ending that Ancient Greek comedy has ever produced. However, the saving grace is that, unlike The Hangover, our three protagonists at least realise their faults and are repentant about them.

Yet, for all its faults, Macedonian Nights was a play ahead of its time. It was the first Greek play to feature a balance between onstage action and dialogue, rather than having the action scenes happen offstage, as, indeed, was the custom for Ancient Greek theatre. It was also the first not to have a distinctive skene, as noted in the chapter of Aristotle's Poetics which states, "Our distinguished colleague Lykaon, whose works bear the bridle of rustic moronity, has introduced several new techniques into his dramatic work, such as the absence of a distinct set of houses next door to each other. In his words, it has to be nowhere so it can instantly be anywhere." Indeed, this balance of action and dialogue works very well in this performance, thanks to the efforts of the Greeks, Romans and monks among which it had a cult following for so many years. Now, with the advancements of theatre to include action and dialogue, Macedonian Nights can have a better reception than it did back in Ancient Greece.

Archaeologists and professors have considered Lykaon "the Adam Sandler of his day" and it shows in this production. After two-thousand years of waiting, it has been performed again, in front of an audience of around 2,000 people and, let me tell you, it is not even funny.

The Lyf of the Easter Bunny- Episode Three

Apologies for the hiatus there, guys! I've been really busy- school work and all that. But let bygones be bygones, for here it is!

Chapter Four

The Hunt

One evening, while he and his mother were indoors, Öster watched as a group of hunters descended on the forest. With them, they brought dogs- Laralet's own kind- with them, and travelled their ways growling and snarling. Laralet cowered in fear, bidding the young rabbit silence himself lest they be discovered. The hunters passed, and all the while Öster felt fearful and cold, and prayed with all his heart that there be no repetition of these events. 

Over the course of his life, Öster grew into a sturdy young rabbit. He could carry a fight on his own, and come out alive, and wrestle even the most powerful bucks into a standstill. His voice carried within it a nasal air, that could, in the eyes of even the most pleasant nymph, be considered slightly irritating. The hedgehogs respected him, as did other rabbits. The leader of the rabbits, Andrei Halb, although a brutal despot, was more than open to him to join his warren. Öster refused this, for he said "I revere neither you nor any oppressive son-of-peat alive. If you had but wanted me to join your warren, then you should have considered it ere Laralet daughter of Tcharlie took me in. Moreover, should you affront me any further, I shall slay you myself." Such was his barbaric, warlike nature, that he possessed according to the wont of the rabbits. The other rabbits would cheer him whenever he expressed laconic statements such as these in public, but on a growl from Halb, they would fall silent and not have one word to say. At one time, Halb sent some rabbits to try and claim Öster through the threat of force, but the young rabbit was skilled in the ways of combat and so attacked them in divers ways that made them all retreat back to the warren

One day, more herds of dogs descended upon the forest, barking voraciously. The humans accompanying them were dressed in the manner of the Teutonic tribes that dwelt within the region in those days- rugged, dark clothes made of putrid wool or suchlike. With gallant valour, stalwart Öster fought them and overpowered the leader, pinning him to the ground with his paws and biting into his neck while the pack leader thrust his paws in the air, whimpering and pleading that he may spare his life. The humans he then proceeded to bite the heads off, and one disappeared, praying not to the Great Lioness who rules over all the worlds, but to his pagan gods. The life-blood of some deer lay sprinkled all over the defiled dell, as well as a wren that had recklessly entered into the path of one of the hunters. The forest lay silent under the spell of the aftermath of the hunt, for all the animals in the wood had fled. Not even the cock robin dared utter one cry, for the wanton destruction caused in the forest had spread exceedingly.

Laralet emerged from the woods, shaking and whimpering. Öster scratched his ear, his tail upright and his ears perched backwards. "Human dastards!" he exclaimed. "Have they not any respect for nature?" Laralet shivered and rubbed her head against his head, which is the dog mother's counterpart of a warm embrace. "Understand, my son, that I know humanity much better than all others in this forest, and they do not care. They merely consider us the background for all their cares or worries, and they do not consider that we have cares and worries, and even priorities, in addition to them. They have fulfilled the Curse of Mankind, my son. They have lost all kinds of touch with the animals, who came before them, and labour to seek but the wealth that they prize most highly."

Öster's nose twitched as he smelt the air for any olfactory traces of human presence. Andrei Halb, he discovered, lay dead on the turf, and the rabbits were gathering around him in mourning. The unfortunate rabbit was later buried, and sacrifices were made to the gods. Most were rejoicing, but in a mournful kind of way, for of course the despot had been cruel to all of them in ways you couldn't even imagine, but there were some who bewailed his passing. The funeral was marked by them digging a hole in the earth with their feet, one rabbit releasing the grip of the tyrant's corpse from within his large teeth, and letting it fall within the grave. One rabbit kicked the earth back into place with his back feet, and the local woodpecker priest gave a long prayer service to the gods, following which everyone dipped their snouts into an ice-cold lake for a few minutes and sneezed simultaneously. This was followed by a recitation of a long poem around a campfire, about some rabbit called Fredwin, as well as feasting and dancing. Laralet daughter of Tcharlie was present, and delivered a long speech about her not being a relative, and not even knowing the deceased, but that she was here because of Öster. When she finished speaking, she turned to Öster and ordered him to have a word with her in private. The rabbit went behind an oak tree with her and, on his hind legs, asked her what this was about.

"Öster," she said, "heed what I say and heed well. What I say here I wanted to say in private lest it should discomfort the rabbits overmuch, even though they celebrate the downfall of the deceased. Listen to me well: legend tells that our world and all others are nestled within a gigantic tree, which contains every world ever known to have existed. None know what lies at the bottom of the tree, but at the top is heaven. No mortal can visit it, for there is a flaming ring around it that prevents mortals from entering; it is not withstandable. I can see that you ask what the purpose is of this conversation. Whenever you feel the pain of a departure, or whenever you feel depressed, just remember that there is a heaven at the top of the great tree, and, even though Halb may or may not have passed there, if I die, then I shall be there."

Öster promised that he would not divulge the secret, and when he returned to the forest, where the rabbits were celebrating Halb's death, he kept this promise as best he could. When Halb's immediate family stepped forward, he wished them all a long life and secretly hoped that in heaven Halb would be treated well, despite his tyranny. But then he did not think that it would be for heaven that Halb was destined, for the celebrating rabbits, which made up most of the mourners, did not mourn at all. Some were breathing huge sighs of relief. Indeed, Öster did not believe that there was such a thing as a world tree; it was an idea that was simply impossible, for a tree that large could never exist. He assumed that the world tree was a story told to children to imbue upon them a sense of wonder.

                                                          ***

One time, Öster was darting through the forest, when he slipped and fell down a dell, injuring himself in seconds. When he awoke, he found himself feeling a sharp pain all over his back. The pain increased further when he felt someone prick him. Öster was moreover surprised by this, for he did not know what was happening nor indeed why he was enduring what he was enduring. Curiosity kills the cat, yet Öster was immune to such lethal effects. There was some scurrying all over his back, and a high-pitched voice said behind him, "You ought not to move too much. It could make you further catatonic. Acupuncture is a delicate process-and I should know, for I took these secrets myself from far-off Cathay."

Öster did not know where Cathay was, nor the name for his mysterious physician. He inquired the identity. "Pascal Murrayne," replied his murine saviour. "I studied in far-off Jerusalem, under which, it is said, hell itself lies, and, having learned the medical trade, I decided to study abroad. My master, Master Medician Porfield, was somewhat sceptical of my aspirations, but eventually he conceded and gave me leave to go. Departing from the Sheep Gate, I travelled the world. I put that great city, the City of old David behind me and never looked back.

"Further travelling down the coast into Africa, I discovered that some animals had shortened life expectancy due to diseases such as tic fever, which is in itself popular among leonines. I was so horrified by what I saw and so full of remorse upon their account that I briefly assumed the tenure of local physick warden- after all, it is considered beneficial to aid one's fellows every once in a while. But I grew tired, and the climate made it under all my fur, and I always kept hearing sounds which damaged my hearing.

"So I travelled east, passing through the desert lands, and swam across the great sea with my paws, wherein I swam for four or five days, and I dare say assisted merfolk in my errings, although my belief that they can cause misfortune is somewhat persistent, and I have never really considered myself capable of assistance other than business"- to this, Öster reached with mild offence. "Travelling further," continued the mouse doctor, "I ventured across through cold, blinding wind and scorching desert, travelling for many days and nights, risking life and limb, surviving repeated attacks by cats, and other kinds of animal, until I reached a strange and unusual country. The buildings here had roofs with curly points, and the people were all dressed in long robes, and some even had beards, though I go no further, lest he who reads this should take offence.

"Learning from a mouse that I was in Cathay, I wandered the land, inquiring after certain ways to improve my routine, until I discovered, while looking into the window of a Chinese doctor, I saw a wonderful sight. The doctor was standing, poking all manner of queer needles into the man's back. I did not know what it was, but it seemed quite effective medically, as far as moving the vertebrae is concerned. So I requisitioned the art for my own, teaching myself the art frequently by visiting the same house and watching the doctor acupuncture his patients, and smuggled some needles out of the area in crates. I myself smuggled myself in one, and nibbled some holes into it. Evidently, there are some who do not approve of my craft." Öster winced. "I do," he said. "Continue with it; you may be a credit to the medical department." 

This was but a mere ruse in order to conceal the disdain he felt, on account of all the pain that he had received. Indeed, he did not think that acupuncture would become fashionable anywhere outside of Cathay, and would be no more than an absolute fad. The rabbit turned and hopped his way home. Still, it was somewhat fascinating. Cathay, it seemed, was a land of wonders beyond his imaginings. Perhaps he could venture there, if indeed it was accessible at all. No one had been there in those days, so one could not be sure whether it even existed or what it looked like, but perhaps if Öster could perhaps gain passage to that mystical land, then perhaps he might visit it.

                                                       ***

As he travelled, Öster heard the rustling of the wind in the trees. A feeling entered his heart that it was autumn, and that perhaps it would be better to ran back to the den before anything happened. Boreas continued blowing in the rabbit's direction, and when the rabbit pleaded for him that he should cease, the wind had only this song in reply:

Such cannot be stopped

Events must be let unfold

The wind blows unending

What gets old gets old.

Öster cursed the wind, tapping his foot on the ground in frustration. He continued his way up and down the dell, and at one point stopped and looked at the distant mountains. Snow capped their tops, and the sun was setting. The sooner he reached home, the better. Öster hopped down the valley, and prayed lest his mother should be extremely irritated, because there was, to a certain extent, a broad twelve-minute distance between his home and here. Perhaps she would not mind- after all, Laralet was an incredibly skilled tracker, and she had a good scent, so technically she could be able to find him. 

A dog came out of the wood. It didn't look like her, but it definitely looked male by the look of it, with grey fur, foaming mouth and wild eyes. Öster tried to avoid the dog- after all, it was a mere hunting dog sent to track his kind down. This did not work, and the dog sprang on him, pinning him down with his paws, and letting dribble fall onto him. Öster sprang forward and, although he had thin teeth, bit the leg of the dog and they grappled together in the growing darkness, growling and snapping at each other. Öster found the dog a hard opponent, and desperately searched for a way to defeat him. He noticed that the dog's leg was thin enough for him to bite, and so he did so. The dog whimpered in pain, and the rabbit leapt forward and bit him in the belly. The dog groaned, "Now it's getting dark, so let me go."

Öster felt sympathy for the dog. If the dog's master discovered him with the innumerable wounds bestowed upon him by Öster, then that meant that his doom was somewhat near. The master would drive a stake through him for this grievance. Yet important matters remained, and it behoved him to address them. "I cannot let you go until you present me a solid promise. Tell your hunter in any way you can to leave this forest and never return. If you do not do so, I will find your human's house and I'll burn it to the ground, you understand. And also, I wish that you should bless me."

The dog whined, grunted, "I shall do as you command", and, upon Öster's releasing him, he darted away like a thunderbolt. Öster sighed with relief, but it also enabled him to wonder whether there HAD been any humans out at the moment, especially on a hunt. If there had been, then he desperately hoped that there should not be any massacres in all directions. The rabbit continued his descent around the dell and came across an owl sitting on a branch, an incense wand under his left foot, from which a long stream of incense poured. Incense did not suit Öster; he did not even like it. The mere smell of incense was enough to have a bad effect on him, though not for reasons of religious indifference. 

The owl's eyes snapped open at that instant, and Öster started. The owl spread his wings like an eagle and, its wings outstretched in the most powerful position possible, began to speak in a terrible voice, hideous and distorted. "It is coming... the Great War cometh... between the sillipowers... rabbits will be offered up for the cause..." Öster stared up into the owl's eyes. They seemed white, as if he were blind. The rabbit was afeared, and stepped back lest he should prove himself afflicted. The next time he looked, he could see normal eyes, as if they had never been white in the first place. The owl looked at him with a perplexed look. "Who are you?"

Öster lowered his ears out of nervousness. "I am Öster son of Laralet." 

The owl hooted. "Why so you are. I have not yet introduced myself. I am Kalkaas, the forest's official seer. I prophesy about future events- not that any of the other animals heed my words, of course. They scorn and disapprove. They say that prophecy is not real, and that linearity is the norm, yet here we are." 

Öster began to immediately grow uncomfortable. Not that this is unusual, for those who have not been seers nor displayed any extra sensory abilities can, indeed, grow somewhat uncomfortable when meeting seers or hearing them prophesy about the future. Öster hoped lest there should be something foretold about him, and intended, should there be one, to immediately forget what it said. Within his heart of hearts, Öster felt that prophecies were no more than bunk, and that destiny was for people who were too laid-back to take responsibility for their fates.

Kalkaas hooted. "You know, I remember you when you were so very young. Your mother said that you displayed some unusual behaviours, such as early flirting and pointing out your interests in such a way that amused your elders. I made a prophecy that you would contribute to the betterment of humanity, although I do not know the exact method; the details are vague, but all that I can tell is that it will be mild, and therefore no one will dare to kill you on account of my words."

Öster could no longer bear to listen to the prophecy so he darted away into the distance, making his way towards the den. He barged into the den hurriedly, which distressed Laralet, who urged him to slow down, and then asked what ailed him. Öster told her about the prophecy, which made Laralet sigh with a sort of fondness when she remembered the strange behaviours Öster had exhibited. At length, she said, "Kalkaas is but a false seer, my son. I do not know why he made the prophecy, but it is not up to the Lioness herself to reveal what happens to us, nor unto her ministers. I myself do not believe in it, for it is naught but moonshine. Yea, you are not a hero but you have a choice in what you are to be. It will be but happy chance."

They went to sleep that evening, but Öster lay on his belly, his head on his paws, desperately repeating the words of the prophecy again and again in his mind. It aggrieved him, and he did not want to remember it, but the instinct to do what is forbidden possessed him, and left him with the prophecy repeating his head like a record. 

Nole- Episode Two

CHAPTER TWO

In which our heroes visit Gwaldr and learn of the interesting things that have been happening up and down the country.

“I had this horrible dream last night,” Nole told Bjorn at breakfast- cold tea and cold toast. “It had this horrible snake thing with black scales that tried to attack me.” He noticed that Bjorn was just sitting across the table, a piece of paper spread on the table before him, and a pen floating in the air. “Bjorn,” he said uncertainly, “what are you writing?” Bjorn stared up at him, still smiling as before. A poem, which I’m sure you’ll like. It’s called The Ringmaster’s Downfall. Only came up with it last night in fact. Nole cleared his throat. “I’ve thought of something. Maybe we can visit Gwaldr.” That’s not going to work out, insisted Bjorn. He doesn’t really like visitors. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” snapped Nole. “I think it would be nice for him to have visitors every once in a while. Alright, just trust me on this.” And so it was that that morning, they set off in the little boat down the mighty Noomimriver,not even daring to fly there. They encountered the gray-haired Bezangas as they passed the mouth of the river and waved to them. The creatures raised their gigantic paws and waved back. Soon they were crossing the Galden Lake, and there was a large storm in the air. Look,said Bjorn, it’s gonna be hard just to get this boat across with that storm going on. Chances are Gwaldr’s cooked it up himself. “What?” Nole asked. 

Yeah. He can control the weather, you know, and a host of other things besides- he’s a magician. They crossed the lake, determined to get there and landed on the shores of what Nole learned was called the Galden-island, after which the lake was named. They went up to Gwaldr’s little cottage and knocked on the door. “Who dares to disturb me at breakfast-time?” snapped a voice from within. “I shall be very cross, very cross indeed.” The door opened and Gwaldr looked on them with large round eyes, which lit up as he saw Bjorn. “Bjorn, my dear thing, so glad of you to see me!” 
He led the pair into a large kitchen where the hermit sat, his large curved snout deep in the morning newspaper. “Seems like a fun guy,” Nole said. Bjorn laughed inside Nole’s head. He is. He only pretends to be a gruff fellow so others can leave him alone. 

All around, bits of crockery and cutlery were flying onto and off the table as Gwaldr finished his breakfast. He asked whether they’d like some. They refused. “We’ve had enough for today,”Nole said. And so they began to talk. Gwaldr told them of strange things in the world at large. “There’s a being that’s running up and down the country, scaring people out of their wits- the Shadow Dragon they’re calling it, because of its black scales. Everyone says it terrorises the countryside around here. The Noogles hate it especially because it steals their crops.

“Also, my cousin Nooglarthur has just met this girl who’s so beautiful that’s she can turn everything she touches into butterflies! How mad does the world have to be these days, Idunno. Flowers grow wherever she walks.” Gwaldr finished his bizarre news, and proceeded to wave his large paw over the kettle by the hearth. The kettle floated in the air as did three teacups. The kettle, Nole noticed, had a face painted around the spout. “Well, if you won’t have breakfast,” said Gwaldr, “perhaps you’d care for some cashew tea? You know, the cashew nut is commonly used for cooking or for snacks, but when you powder it up, it does make a splendid tea!” And indeed it did make a splendid tea! Nole loved it so much. Old Gwaldr smiled. “I’m glad you like my tea.” He jumped as he realised something. 

“Oh, I almost forgot. They’re holding the Poppins Market tonight!” 

“What?”

 “Yes, the Poppins Market, Nole. It’s my responsibility to create the magic drawing in which it takes place. Happens every Thursday and Friday. But I forgot you’re new here, so perhaps I’ll explain it. Traders usually bring stuff in from other lands, and at the Poppins Market, you can buy absolutely anything! Anything you want! And such reasonable prices, too! What a lovely rainbow out there!” They turned and went outside to see the great rainbow in the sky. Beside it flew the Rainbow
Nymphs, all splendid to look at. All were singing the same thing:

Swim! swim! swim!

Come, sisters!

Come, sisters!

We are free!

Gwaldr gave them a wave. The Rainbow Nymphs waved back as they continued to fly by. The bulky being sighed. “Ah, there’s no creature in existence more beautiful than the Rainbow Nymphs. As a matter of fact, it’s bad luck in these parts not to wave to them as they‘swim’ by. They don’t take kindly to that. But I have to say, they’re not a patch on that girl I talked about.” Nole told Gwaldr that they should perhaps leave.
“Oh, don’t go!” cried the creature. “You haven’t had a bite of my lovely strawberry pudding! Oh, and, er...” He muttered something, and tickets appeared out of thin air and landed in our heroes’ paws. “Here,” he said. “Tickets for the Poppins Market. You’ll have goblins of fun there, I’m sure!”


They went. They were invited and so had no choice in the matter. As they stepped into the painting, they knew they were in for a world of fun. All the creatures around the lake were there: Beganzas, Gwooglies with their white fur, Noogles with their long trunks and a whole host of other creatures. A rockhopper penguin was moving through the crowd, carrying flags in his flippers and crying, “Roll up! Roll up! For the finest Poppins Market that was ever on a wheel! Welcome to the Poppins Market, all you Beganza, Gwooglies, Noogles andScrimmerfolk!” Well, this is a fine market, said Bjorn. They moved through the crowd, until they saw Hingie the Scrimmerfolk. Hingie was managing a stall called “Hingie’s Maps and Information”, and he was overjoyed to see Bjorn and Nole. Didn’t expect you here, said Bjorn. “Oh, I never miss a Market, Bjorn!” cried Hingie. “This is, of course, where my business is. Who’s this?” That’s Nole. He’s new here. They bought some pens and paper, and a new packet of Stephen’s Ink, some food to keep them going, and some other things- a bottle, some sponges, a loofah, and some old records. Nole’s eyes wandered all over the place.
Everyone seemed to be having a good time. He planned to hear what others were talking about, but he was so busy thinking about how wonderful the Market was, that it was hard for him to even “tune in” as it were. One Noogle was saying “Well, I’m glad the Shadow Dragon hasn’t got here yet.” “I couldn’t agree more,” agreed a Frog-spirit, which looked quite like a frog itself. “Let’s propose a toast. Also, I hear that the Twilight Empress is coming to Galdenlake- on a royal visit!” “A royal visit!” cried a Hogtroll. “That’s an honour!” In Nole’s heart, he imagined a beautiful young Empress and he began to feel dizzy. Alright, alright, calm down, he told himself. He told Bjorn he was going for a walk, and told the creature to wait there. So saying, he crossed over to a nearby fish stall and purchased some cooked fish. He later gave some to Bjorn, who said no. I’m not hungry. When our heroes returned home, they counted their purchases and then went to bed. 
Nole had no bed to speak of, just his armchair, which was where he slept. And so he did sleep. Yet his nightmares were full of fears of the fearsome Shadow Dragon, and its possible poison. Noleturned and turned in his armchair. He had another dream where he was in a circus sideshow, and it was dark, and there were clowns glaring at him. Yet the Shadow Dragon burst onto the scene, as an exhibit! Nole felt that he should run, but when he woke up the next morning, he didn’t remember the dream at all.

Nole- Episode One

Today I am publishing a different story. Inspired by the work of Tove Jansson, I wrote it for my baby brother. I will still be publishing The Lyf of the Easter Bunny, though

CHAPTER ONE

In which we meet our hero, Nole, and experience his entrance into the world of theNoomimriver, and also meet Bjorn.

Nole had been busy, organising his large book collection, by genre and date of acquisition, and he was absolutely bored with it. More to the point, it was more than he could bear, and he hated every last minute and second or even hour of it. It was no wonder that he hurled anencyclopedia of chipmunks on the floor, kicked it and shrieked, “To heck with book organisation!” and stormed out of the house without even giving a second thought. He set off through the caverns that made up the way to his home and eventually came to the stairs that led up a tunnel to the outside world. He climbed those stairs, thinking, “Come on! Come on, you ninnywit!” Emerging in bright sunshine, he stood in awe of the landscape around him. He’d heard of this place, in legends and in song, but never had he gone out of the darkness to face the mighty Noomimriver! Just as he was lying on the luscious banks, he managed to see some sort of shape across the river from him, its back turned to the great wall of the ravine. A cylinder shape, no arms or legs, with a smile and a large nose. He stared at it. Hello, Nole, said a voice in his head. Nole smiled. “Hello, Bjorn.” Like to come over? “Well, it’s all very well to talk,” said Nole. The shape approached the bank and floated over the water, standing before Nole. Would you like to come with me for lunch? asked Bjorn. Nole said, “That’d be very nice, thank you.” A sandwich bag with a cress sandwich in it appeared out of thin air, with a bag with a host of other foodstuffs. There’s quite a lot in here, said Bjorn. What I always take. A boat appeared from thin air too. “Hod in geaven!” exclaimed Nole. The boat floated in the air and flew off away from the canyon. They eventually had lunch on a beach around the lake, where they talked. Across the lake was an island with a house shaped like a trapezium. Oh, that’s where old Gwaldr lives, said Bjorn. Eventually, they managed to seehim. Gwaldr was heaving his large, sulking body across the beach. “Hayo, Gwaldr!” criedNole. “Join us, won’t you?” Gwaldr sniffed the air, muttered, “Hmph! Country!” and disappeared down the bank. Oh, that’s just his way, admitted Bjorn. He lives with the Hermit on the island, both usually don’t like company. Also, he added, here come the Gwooglies. Now Gwooglies are a race of pear-shaped creatures with no arms, that can make things float in the air without touching them. They frowned at Bjorn before disappearing into the bushes.What an unusual race, Bjorn remarked. They multiply in the most unusual way. Nole, as he was keen to discover more of the world around him, asked, “Are you a magical creature?” Bjorn continued to smile. I am. “Who are you? Where is your home?” Oh, I don’t have one. I’m a homeless wanderer god, spurned and rejected by my other beings. Nole felt sorry for him. “Well, perhaps you might take lodging at my place.” That’d be extremely kind of you,replied Bjorn. And so they began their journey home on the flying boat. Back to Nole’shome, deep under the earth.

***

Beautiful place you’ve got here, I must say, admitted Bjorn as the two arrived at the home of our hero. “Thank you,” said Nole. And he went on to tell Bjorn about every object he owned, such as “that little gnome, Aunt Aeggie gave me that one” or “that’s a portrait of me grandpa over the fireplace- may-he-rest-in-peace”, and every time, Bjorn made the perfect audience. They sat in the two armchairs Nole had, and talked about things. What do you think we’ll do tomorrow? asked Bjorn. “Who the heck knows?” replied Nole. “I suppose you’ve noticed my feet are backwards?” Yes, said Bjorn. Nole pricked an ear up, and listened to some singing coming from the top of the tunnel. “Who’s that?” Oh, that’s just the Bezangas off on a ramble. They always go around rambling and laughing at this time of the year, on their way to hunt raccoon-dogs. “Who are the Bezangas?” Great dudes, replied Bjorn. They’re the greatest hunters under heaven, and they don’t care about anything else. Well, g’night. Nolenoticed that Bjorn’s eyes were now closed. How strange, he thought. So, instead of hesitating, he too fell fast asleep.