A quiet, mannered gentleman… Well dressed but not lavish, elegant but not dandy, [i]pleasant to the eye but not handsome, he seems to lack any real distinctive features. He’s sipping a cup of hot, spiced mushroom wine.
[/i]What can I say? Just before the Festival I severed the ties that still got me hooked to the Surface… And during the Festival I severed the ones that got me hooked in the Neath. Unfinished business, old sentimental affairs, a forced retire in the Marsh… All is behind me now. Not only that, I finally found a source of revenue that could allow me to easily pay for my little leisures without having to depend on selling poetry… That’s it, my friends, I can start writing for pleasure rather than just to pay for my wine! As such, I’m already arranging for new lodgings, so that my townhouse in Concord Square may be used only as the head office of the Pragmatic Poets Society… I’m having a sign made. And of course, when it’ll be ready, you’re all invited to the inauguration. Cheers - to future!
edited by streetfelineblue on 2/4/2012
edited by streetfelineblue on 2/4/2012