Joseph A. Pinto

barflypoet & author of dark fiction

Enter. Sit before the Tale Weaver. Be still; your incessant fidgeting only diminishes your concentration. Do you not hear it? There. There. Aah, stark terror glazes your eyes…but it should not be so. Relish instead, such a strange and horrid note, that awful baying from beyond the window sash. Silence yourself! I share with you …

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PALACE In this darkness I have longed, yet only now do you approach beneath my canopy of sentinels. Wordless, though I have screamed centuries for you. Guileless, though now indeed you have been warned. I shall devour your pretenses; leave shorn your bravado. I am your beast, and under granite columns shall you be reborn. …

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