Sunday, 20 October 2013
"Look, come this way, my innocence friend, see my hands aren't red, but pink, not gloved. I have to eat, live on my wits, I made up an act all my own, a piece of art to trade, I do not fleece the Child and I'm willing to be your earthly guide."
"To live on my wits.....
I'm afraid, I'm so small, so easily blown away, these cattle seem so big and meaty, how can I live in the streets with them, so harsh and crazy?"
"Do I live in the street? No, No, my young friend, I have a cosy room, here at the Inn. I earn my keep in rooms, just like the rest. A framework and a cosy fire, all of them come here to retire. I'm their bit of fun. I help this place to run. I'm almost called Indispensable, though you won't hear it said, the Inn Keep thinks it in his head. And though I'm an employee, I'm his secret friend - an ally in the game, to keep this House humming."
"Hmmmm.......So it's not whoring, but a service understood, a trade of skills and tales, practiced daily in the sales?"
"I was wondering, might I do my thing, you know, write and sing, maybe make stuff and ponder deeply? You see I'm kind of weepy too, also smiling but not denying of my, let's say, delicate nature."
"The Moon, my dear, is loved as much as the Sun. Have no fear of your talents peculiar. A novel to them hides open in the sun. They treat it as consumable and laugh and cry as is suitable. It may be you touch and take some with you, through the holy door you skip through."