Term time was once more upon the university city of Oxford England. The new intake of students were undecided whether they should strut around or cower in corners as their older peers circulated loudly, as only students know how. We shall return to this place of learning very soon and perhaps if some of the students had spent more time learning they might not, well that would rob us of our tale now wouldn’t it.

Far away in a darker place where the scent of smoke caressed the air, others watched the world of man and wondered as only they could what amusements might come their way this very year. That special time when they might slip between the worlds was fast approaching and with each passing day or at least what they had for days they became more and more restless. Here also we shall return with a guarded eye as it does not do to dwell overly long in such places.

Lastly let us visit a cottage, yes a much more tranquil place. The Oxfordshire sandstone dulled brown by the years supporting a thickly thatched roof. Here abides Joseph for such he calls himself and despite the view of an aged and hunched man whose life seems written in the scars upon his face, he is a major actor in our drama that shall thus unfold. See how when he thinks he is not observed how he straightens his twisted back and becomes tall and strong, yet the years do not seem to fit with this for aged he remains. Here too is a place that we shall return to as our tale unfolds as a play upon the stage that is life and the worlds above and below.

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© 2015 by Cole Browning

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