miss embe sketches:
Week 1: Alone with the walls.
miss embe sketches:
Week 2: From source to mouth...
miss embe sketches:
I probably shouldn't have taken the Book of Chaos from the shelf
miss embe sketches:
At the edge of the forest, I slipped off my shoes.
miss embe sketches:
A few stray spots of sunlight filtered down between the trees, and the path was cool beneath my feet.
miss embe sketches:
Through a clearing ran the river, with flecks of gold amongst the stones that made its bed.
miss embe sketches:
After walking for several hours, I sat down in a sunny glade to rest.
miss embe sketches:
I awoke as the sun was setting, and the forest began to grow cold.
miss embe sketches:
I saw a plume of smoke coming from the chimney of a nearby cottage, the windows glowing with the light of a friendly fire.
miss embe sketches:
When I approached, the door stood open. I stepped inside.
miss embe sketches:
The witch, who had been sleeping in her chair, woke up when she heard me come in. “Would you like a cookie?” she asked.
miss embe sketches:
I took the cookie. “I’m looking for a hero,” said the witch. “Are you a hero?”
miss embe sketches:
“Curses,” said the witch. “Our last hero was kidnapped by a dragon, and we need someone to rescue him.”
miss embe sketches:
I don't suppose you'd give it a go anyway? She asked. I nodded.
miss embe sketches:
I pulled out a sleeping bag.
miss embe sketches:
After walking all morning, I came to a bridge that crossed a fast-flowing stream.
miss embe sketches:
A troll popped out from under the bridge. “Who goes there?”
miss embe sketches:
“Oh,” said the troll. “You play the trumpet?”
miss embe sketches:
"I do", said the Troll.
miss embe sketches:
He pulled out his own trumpet from under the bridge. It was all dented and covered in moss and dirt
miss embe sketches:
"I won Young Troll Musician of the Year with this baby back in '78," he said.
miss embe sketches:
He seemed lonely, so I asked if he’d like to come with me and rescue the hero.
miss embe sketches:
Passing through the forest, we heard a strange buzzing coming from the treetops.
miss embe sketches:
“They won’t let us pass through here,” said the troll. “We need to pay our respects to the queen first.”
miss embe sketches:
“If you wish to pass through here, you’ll have to tell me a story,” she said.
miss embe sketches:
“Once upon a time –” I began, but the troll interrupted me. “I’ve got this,” he said. “Think of a single star in the sky.”
miss embe sketches:
The star is surrounded by millions of its fellows, and beneath them lies the earth.
miss embe sketches:
The blackness of space fades into the blue of the sky, and the ground is green below.
miss embe sketches:
And on the ground, my people and your people live and work in harmony.
miss embe sketches:
...but the queen looked pleased. When he was done, she took his hand.
