A bedtime story, part 1

Eftersom jag nuförtiden går runt i ett konstant tillstånd av bortlängtan till fjärran länder, däribland USA tänkte jag ta tillfället iakt att byta språk för ett ögonblick. Märk även att detta är första delen av en lite längre historia.


" ... I wish that you would visit me one day, in my house.
There are such sights I would show you."

My intended lowers her eyes, and, yes, she shivers.
her father and his friends all hoot and cheer.

"That's never a story, mister Fox," chides a pale woman
in the corner of the room, her hair corn-fair,
her eyes the gray of cloud, meat on her bones,
she curves, and smiles crooked and amused.

"Madam, I am no storyteller," and I bow and ask,
"Perhaps, you have a story for us?" I raise an eybrow.
Her smile remains.

She nods, then stands, her lips move:



To be continued...