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Lady Duskrover: Towards a Kung-Fu Magick Fantasy Tale
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… dimly seen as a day-dream, walking down the green riverside in a wet & windy Sunday afternoon—the Ancient Western Crossing not faraway—the campsite someplace there but now forgotten—the ghosts of Punic hosts still looming in time, perhaps—still haunting place and memory as the ghosts from cheap literature …
… a green-eyed white cat sitting still on a high window sill staring afar …
… grazing & glancing as quickly & fluently & sweetly as a blue-grey breeze brushing an heathy down pinkish-purple with dewy flowers above a clear nether spring gushing & flowing …
… a blue misty cloud throbbing around a pale black-haired woman laying head down hips rocking & grey-blue eyes staring into a great oval mirror hanging above & before her—pale & silvery as a full moon the faintly gleaming surface is clouded by a grey-blue haze slowly darkening, then slowly fading—her grey-blue eyes stare into the fading mist while a dark stream flowing through a wide low valley under a starry night sky heaves in sight to fill the mirror slowly—blue-grey as the cloudy sky at dusk her eyes arise & fly above the dark river valley & spread until they fill the night sky & stare far off in time, perhaps …
… a forgotten place, an unknown time, a cold, misty & drizzling night, the dim & obscure shape of a long & squat building with a few little pale yellow lights leaking out from within—starlight & no moon above the gambling house …
… too dark & drizzling a night to see how & why a bunch of murky shapes suddenly swarm in the dark with muffled sounds of dim whirling blades, heavy & light thudding steps, panting & growling—too dark & drizzling a night to tell how many fighters—too fast & frenzy a dancing fight to tell assaulted from assailants …
… a dusky shadow whirling among the surrounding lurid shapes with dark wet cloaks flapping, stirring & spinning, & long hairs whipping—a whirlwind of slicing hands & spiking fingers & striking elbows & stunning knees & scything feet, somber shapes falling all around like dry reeds in a strong wind …
… purple eyes gleaming in a pale stream of light cutting slantwise through the dark shade of an alley …
… a green-eyed white cat sitting still on a high window sill & looking down into the dark & muffled resounding road below …
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