The World of Ordinary

The air is still this morning, a mixture of dull gray clouds combined with the scent of un-fallen snow. Perhaps this will be the last good storm of winter before spring re-breathes life into the city that surrounds me.

A few hands ago I made Lucian an offer. It was not an offer that was made in light thought. I live in his house; I care for his son and albeit it is not the natural order of things, and many may not understand, it does not seem disorderly to me. Would there be whispers? Yes, I suppose there would, but they do not know what I know. They do not feel what I feel, and it’s not as if I haven’t been whispered about before.

I met a man cloaked in black near the iced over fountain in the Great Square. Most might have run as fast as possible in the opposite direction, but I.. feel a kinship with those who walk the path of the uncertain, the unknown, the outcasts who keep to themselves for obvious reasons.

I found Melaina again and we have become.. comrades of sorts. I believe I enjoy our time together because she has at least as many troubles as I. Brother and lover and the constant constraint set upon women such as she.

I read for a dark haired man on the outskirts of Ar, one who had a rather strange request before he gave me my pay, a full silver, only to find out I am perfectly.. flawed and not the one.

And too, I was re-acquainted with a man who once knew me.. in another life, as a slave. A man who thinks it his due to take now, what he did not take then. A man who whispered words of wanting me, oddly enough, for me and not for any powers of a precognitive future. Of course I don’t believe him. Men never tell the truth when they covet something.

In a world of the mundane, where most people try and attain the golden ring of extraordinary, I find myself trying to grasp at a circle of ordinary, normal brass.

I pray the loop is not as hollow as I fear.