Donkey Boys

“Do you remember the case of the donkey boys?”

“I do”, answered Black thoughtfully.

“Well, I am thinking that simply by association, men - or even children - can migrate into species … and species into men... and, it bothers me."

Francis continued, “Because I do not believe that the innocent animal makes for a better human once converted, and nor does the human, convert well into animal. There is a degradation of being occurring with the unnatural change, of this nature. I cannot quite name.”

Black thought back to the donkey-boy circus - travelling sex traffickers who were recruiting youth town to town, and then holding them in service, not allowing them to return home. It was young boys for the main.

A dark magic overtook this troupe, whereupon the children, in time, had morphed into a herd of donkeys, and because of this, the authorities could not make a case to save them. They could not even prove that they were once boys.

As time moved further on, it had been thought to be only allegory, but Francis and Hode had discovered this corruption and worked to free them, as it happened. It was a nasty business.

“And, what bothers me more so, is the corruption of species. The donkey boys were a prime example of evil working to destroy what was good about the children, and good about the beast - and it all became a mess. I think, a cautionary tale."


- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Oscar's Clocca

A little bell chimed, and the two stared at the mechanical clock admiringly. 

"Oh I think you should give it back”, said Caspar earnestly, shaking his head, “this clearly was not meant to be given out by the Brothers of poverty. The bailiff will come and arrest you for possessing such a treasure. No, you cannot keep this, it is not safe.”

“What if I copy it first? I shall pull it apart, bit by bit, and make drawings of its works … and then return it back to Master Murmur on his weekly return.”

“This is a plan that is proper and acceptable, methinks.”

And so Oscar pulled the dainty contraption into pieces, and laid out its cogs and engine, so that he might trace around its little shapes; but when he came to reassembling the beating heart, he just could not get the ratchet to fly.

He looked over his work-bench in case he had left anything out. He tried several times with optimism and then defeat.

It lay dead in his hands. The clocca chimed no more.


- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Murmur’s Wagon of Charity

It so happened that Oscar was picking through Murmur’s wagon of charity, when he found the fine wooden box with the metal bell-ringing device inside.

His hands could feel its significance, and he was excited by the craftsmanship apparent in the ornate tooling with its intricate, miniature style.

“It rings bells randomly”, he explained to Caspar who was fondling this new treasure.

“I will manufacture these, and my business will prosper. See there - it has a little heart inside, and whirring wheels with teeth; so small - look, look closer!”


- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Dog Love

“Everyone loved me with the dog head, yet they are indifferent with the human head. I'm going with what works.”

“But can’t you see this doesn’t work at all? For one thing, you won't be able to step outside of this compound, and what will happen when the workers return after the break? Oh, and what about Robyn - she wont be able to cope at all. Robyn is a zoologist….”

“She will love me again too”, he said flatly.

They all had to admit, he looked rather cute. Hearing him speak was a tad creepy however.

- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

A Dreaming Frame of Reference

“Can’t you just change back to the head you had an hour ago?” pleaded Charley.

She looked over to her father and Francesco to appeal to them for agreement. Calvin stepped forward - he felt oddly calm amongst this weirdness. It was as though he was in an unrelenting dream.

With some events, life can be like that. When life outruns your experience, or the unexpected happens right there before you, it can put the mind into a dreaming frame of reference - for in dreams we are used to the haphazard and the random, and are rarely surprised by anything. It is this part of our thinking that steps up to embrace the fantastic surprises that greet us.

“I’m staying with the dog head”, Chips said belligerently.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Reputation

It was plain to everyone that Bruce Lee-Chips could not continue to be seen as he was now, wearing this, his Weimaraner look.

His newly found physical body was quite small - he looked more like a tall child in an elaborate mask; however his nose was moist and his tongue hung out to one side, and his eyes were obviously, intelligently, real.

Although it is impossible to graft a dog’s head onto human shoulders, word would get out that this was exactly what Johnstone and Johnstone were now trying to do - and achieving.

Before long they would not only lose reputation for being family-friendly, they would probably be hauled away by some not-so family friendly government agency. This would not do at all.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

The Moral Compass

“By this one device we can trace the moments with order. In this quarter we have vespers, in that quarter we do chores, by that quarter there is supper, and with the final, there is prayer and rest.

"The Holy never stop praying - even in their sleep. And, when in the night we fumble through the dark awaiting sunrise, it can even predict that - it is the most valuable tool we have.”

“What call it?”

“The moral compass. It marks our duties and benedictions … this one Brother Francis is for you to take back to your Community. At present, it is only one of five, and so the honour I give is great.”

Francis nodded his head in a half bow, and after being instructed on its care and duties he carefully placed it in his knapsack, and started out for home.

.......

“Murmur - here’s one more for your charity pile” Francis said, tossing the box into the collection.


- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances