The whole kingdom is sinking, sinking in the mire of the King’s sadness. The spires of the keep are beginning to tilt. They bring him acrobats, jesters, singers - anyone who might bring him some cheer and rise the kingdom out of the mire. Nothing works. Eventually all the folk leave. The King is alone. The last of his palace slips under the mud before anyone can notice.
Paddy Dobson
8th August 2024