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Under the Mushroop Cap: The story of Iven Eifergot
Under the Mushroop Cap: The story of Iven Eifergot
Iven Eifergot hunched over a rugged wooden desk and fumbled the cork out of a smell well of ink. The dying embers from a nearby hearth illuminated only this corner of the old pine cabin where the desk was positioned, and he anticipated having to stand soon to stoke them. Iven looked up for a moment and noticed the shades of auburn light from the fire bouncing warmly off the sap that had oozed from between the home’s rough timbers...
Musings I
Musings I
A painting leaned against the back wall of an old shop --- surrounded by so many others. It was far from the largest, but its black and gold-painted frame caught his attention.
Set inside the water-stained matte, two silhouetted souls rowed their vessel to the dark shore, where --- save the moon --- a cabin window was all that illuminated the night.
"Peace," he thought.
Musings II
Musings II
He tugged open the worn leather satchel by his side and fumbled for a piece of flint.
Tired eyes met the old letter, who's wax stamp had turned so brittle, and for a moment the world once again stood still.
"Peace. I'm lost when I think of you --- the most beautiful and calming moment of my life... It has ushered in the same darkness and noise that I now feel I'll never escape."
"Excitement and joy seemed to cause him pain --- and they were his own."
"Excitement and joy seemed to cause him pain --- and they were his own."
Musings III
Musings III
A small cicada crawled up beside the fire he sat near to -- seventeen years in total solitude.
Heat bounced off its chitinous shell as it stared blankly into the flames, surrounded by this all-too-unfamiliar world.
The man watched as the bug screeched, its wings fluttering madly, and dashed into the flames. Within seconds the newcomer, following two decades of burrowed contemplation, burned to a crisp.
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