Maybe I should have taken the left path, as the villagers advised, but it just didn’t seem right. And now a stranger blocked my way, a not very well-dressed fellow, at that. Obviously, he was no slave to Fashion, and I said as much.

“Nor do you appear to be such, sir.”, said he. “May I ask, then, have you escaped from Reality? For I am empowered by Reality to receive bounties for their escapees as well as slaves to Fashion.”

Neither, sir.” Said I, “A traveling Linguist am I , one who has journeyed to Hither and Yon, learning the tongues of yore… ”

“Do they speak yore in Yon, then?”

“Not as of yesterday,” I replied. “Still, quite an educated guess.”

“A Hunch, actually. My step-Father was a Guess. Like him, I went to the University in Knox.”

I whistled my appreciation. “A difficult course of instruction, I have heard.”

“Hard? Knox?” The stranger scoffed. “A walk down Easy Street. ”

I tired of our odd conversation, and made to move on.

“For where are you bound, linguist?

“I am bound for the land of Gibber, the better to study their language”.

“Ah, Gibberish” Said the man who yet impeded my progress. “It is spoken everywhere. however.”

“Yes, but never comprehended.” Then, it occurred to me that this fellow might know the way, and I inquired of him if this were so.

“I do know the way, but if you have to ask, then there’s no point in me telling you.”

“That makes no sense at all.”

“You’re getting close.”

One response to this post.

  1. Ha! Ha! Don’t close, don’t close, go further, please?! 🙂


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