Afterwords

With an almighty crash Pine Needles felled the giant tree in front of him. Its girth was five times his size, and its height had reached way upwards into the morning mists.

Birds scattered from its dropped shoulders. Hastily he tore its branches from the core, until there was but one massive trunk, to which, as a miner might, he hacked a hole in one end and carved a lengthy tunnel throughout - until he reached the very end of it …

Needles momentarily seemed satisfied - but no! As though an afterthought, he then proceeded to bore holes in its uppermost part as he walked through - one, and then two ports, until there were twelve - whereupon the sunlight drained down into the trunk’s circular windows.

Down from the clouds reached a broad and horny hand - with warts as big as stepping stones, and callouses, bigger still. It clasped the carved tree trunk and raised it high.

Needles waited excitedly as the giant had snatched his handiwork from the ground. This huge fellow was of immense stature - being one of the last of the old world and one of the first of his own world to come - although he lived in the clouds, he frequented the under side of Faerie for tidbits and scrum.

Needles closed his eyes - squinted them quite tightly in anticipation - waiting, waiting for the sound …

And then it came: the tune from his musical pipe filled the air everywhere around him - its solemn melody flew the airs winding for miles, with one very long low note at the end.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series