the green round

inspired by machen. a tinyprose.

entering the green round he was amazed at the array of festive pennants and banners. inside the hollow hill surrounded by hemlock a dozen tables lay burdened with the remains of the elf-feast. the goblets still shone majestically with their cups rimmed with purple stains. the table cloths soiled and torn, and the earthen walls crumbled to the touch.  when he went to the closest table to investigate the aged repast further, the food leavings all changed into the dead leaves of the yew and oak. growing more insistent in tone, the far off sound of a lute drew him farther down the hall in its stead.  a melancholic but beautiful aura haunted the hall. silver chains and pendants hung in a decorative fashion on the bare walls of the hallowed hollow and they swung to his movement as he shambled past. in a daze the instrumentation coming as if from inside a closed wooden chest, enmeshed him in ivy-like tendrils of sound. he shuffled farther towards the sound down a hall and found a single dug out chamber in the earth. in it was an old fashioned bed and a celtic style knot-work wall-hanging. the sound was coming from the other side of the bed where there lay on the ground a large wooden chest. he opened it… time returned.  too much time.


About Chris S.

Burgeoning Burgeon-er.
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One Response to the green round

  1. Jeremiah says:

    You are an interesting weirdo.
    From, your holy Gordian Angle

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