I couldn’t make a puppet today. It came as no surprise. I don’t want to make one, subconsciously that is. Regardless of how I tried, my body and my mind didn’t cooperate with me. That’s fine though.


    I couldn’t make a sword either. Nor could I make a bow, a staff, or even arrows. Armor though, armor I could make. I took to wearing my armor, being comforted by its presence, and distinctly aware of its absence.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    I could make other things too, and I did. I reveled in the joy of creation today. Well, reveled is a bit strong, distracted myself might be a better phrasing.


    It seems the people that attacked us were slavers. But it doesn’t matter, not to me at least.


    Anyway, Good Night Diary.