One
In Which we Meet Locke, His Mother and a Strange Lady
My name is Locke and while I do not entirely agree with the choice, given that I had little say in the matter as an infant, the baby registrar was signed thus and so my fate was sealed, at least in terms of my name. Who I am is something else entirely and it’s something I’m still trying to figure out, almost twenty eight years after my worthy mother signed an unworthy name to the birthing announcement.
I live in the city of London in the Glorious Kingdom of Angland under the reign of Queen Elizabeth IV. I honestly believe, in my spare moments, that the Royalty have little
Strength in All the Wrong Places by Tanashai, literature
Literature
Strength in All the Wrong Places
Those muscles. I know them well:
once they lifted the heaviest burdens
from shoulders stooped and grave
without any effort
without any sweat.
Then they began to work out.
And work until they grew pale;
and lost a drop of salt-
maybe two-sometimes three.
And they became strong indeed.
Ironic then that,
the stronger they were,
the more atrophied they became.
Until they could no longer even lift
an eyelid.