Member-only story
This is a story mothers everywhere have always told their children. They haven’t always used the same words, or the same characters, or the same plot, but they always told the same truth, and so they told the same story.
It is a tale from the history before history, when mankind lived among the trees and slept under the stars, when words were few but tales were plenty, when life was cheap but stories were free.
Because I remember those times, this story is free if you click here.
This is a tale of the Philosophant-Phortitude family before they became a family, before mankind dreamed of Lady Sir Phililomeneena, the psychopomp who guards the secret wood, and before they dreamed of Her Magistrain Queen Addolorata, Mother of Mourning. But it is a time when they knew well the eldest sister, the trickster child Lady Sir Penenelenpope.
As even the ants know, the Creator sees the world They made through eyes of purest poetry. They see a tiny blue marble, like a flower floating in space, but they do not see the people living on it.
But one day They saw a spider squatting over the flower, stretching its legs and spinning its webs.
