The Dreams Of The Waiting Prince

Now this morning I woke to find the doors to the Palace had been opened, for the period of solitude was to begin, the date having been set for my Lord’s ascension to the throne. Here in his solitude, only upon his rising in the morning shall he speak, so as to recount to me his dreams of the night before.

Now to me did my Lord hand this pen, and the scrolls upon which I am to write, and though he was not yet permitted to speak, he said to me, “My dear Scribe, last night as I slept, I dreamt. And as I dreamt, I slept.” And then he took to the chambers of his solitude for a moment of rest, and lay down there to sleep…

The Dreams Of The Waiting Prince, Before The Occasion Of His Ascension, During The Period Of His Seclusion, In The High Palace Of Eternal Solitude, Above The Clouds Of The Empire’s Reality, Beneath The Many Moons Of The Empire’s Imagination is the story of a lifetime and the history of an empire told entirely in dreams.

Written by David Guy, and with illustrations and artwork by Virginia Frances Sterrett (1900-1930) and Frances MacDonald (1873-1921), it is available to buy in a beautiful, fully illustrated, pocket book edition.

Product Details:

Title: The Dreams Of The Waiting Prince
Price: £6.99/$12.99 (plus postage)
Pages: 112
Binding: Paperback
Illustrations: 12 (b&w)
Dimensions: Pocket Book (4.25×6.875in / 108x175mm)
Paper Quality: 80gsm

A PDF/ebook version is also available (with full colour illustrations) for free/pay what you want.

The One Hundred And Fifty Dreams Of The Waiting Prince

Illustrations – Notes, References and Acknowledgements

Tales From The Town #92: Tasting Menu (Courses 1-4)

“What’s that?”
“It looks like some slugs.”
“Dead slugs.”
“It’s liquorice. It’s nice.”
“Urgh! It’s not nice, Nanny!”
“It’s not nice at all.”
“It tastes like slugs.”
“Live slugs.”

“This stuff tastes like flowers!”
“And perfume.”
“And shampoo.”
“And eyeballs.”
“Eyeballs?”
“Eyeballs.”
“I don’t think it tastes like eyeballs at all.”
“I don’t even know what eyeballs taste like.”
“Well then how do you know it doesn’t taste like eyeballs, Nanny?”
“How do you know it does taste like eyeballs?”
“Everyone knows what eyeballs tastes like.”
“I was a crow once. That’s how I know what eyeballs taste like.”
“You were never a crow, Daniel.”
“I was! I flew into a cloud and thunder came out.”
“Daniel was never a crow, Nanny.”
“He’s making it up to impress you.”
“Well, I certainly am impressed, Daniel. So, who wants another piece of Turkish Delight?”
“No.”
“No.”
“Definitely NO!”
“Yes.”
“He doesn’t, Nanny.”
“I do.”
“You don’t, Daniel.”
“You definitely don’t.”
“That’s how they get you, Daniel.”
“You’ll never escape!”

“What is this?!”
“It tastes like ice cream!”
“But it looks like lemonade!”
“It’s cream soda.”
“Cream spider more like.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!”
“You don’t make any sense!”
“I do!”
“You don’t!”

(repeat to fade)

“You never ate these, Nanny.”
“We can’t believe anyone EVER ate these.”
“They’re not even food.”
“They’re weetabix, Nanny!”
“With butter on them!”
“And no milk!”
“I’m not finished yet. Look, next you sprinkle sugar on the butter like this…”
“Nanny, this is disgusting!”
“If Mum finds out you’re feeding us this she’s going to send you back to the moon!”
“Well, actually, this used to be your mother’s favourite, back when she was your age.”
“It wasn’t?!”
“It was.”
“Not Mum?!”
“She would NEVER.”
“Mum only eats spaghetti bolognese.”
“And cheese on toast.”
“And christmas cake and wine.”
“But not this.”
“Never this.”
“Dad was sent to the caves for less than this.”
“The lodger went to prison for less than this.”
“The witch was banished to hell for less than this!”

___________

Notes:

1. Written on 27th May, 2022

A Sea As Pale As A Dead Child’s Eyes

The boy, Robert, my nephew, had been missing two hours now when I saw him in the harbour, his head bobbing up and down in the water between two fishing boats, as if caught in the ropes that tethered them in place and now calling for help in between the slow swell of the incoming waves.

The breathe caught in my throat, tears welled in my eyes, the shock of it, the surprise, the suddenness of the sight. I didn’t even think, no worries for my own wellbeing, no attempts to call for help. I didn’t even kick off my shoes, simply ran into the water, wading through the waves, clambering across the pontoons floating in the shallows, climbing into and out of boats before diving from a small wooden raft down into the depths of the sea.

A single vision then, clear as a painting, as staged as some devastating tableau. Robert floating in glass, the scene bisected by ropes fringed with weeds, his billowing hair lit by a single shaft of light from above, a bubble of air almost lazily forming between his lips, his eyes a piercing blue sharp enough to cut apart my soul.

I surfaced, coughing, choking, panic and horror and shame, of failure, loss. Clinging to the side of the boat I called his name, “Robert! Robert!”, then dived back down. Dived back under to try again, again, again.

There was nothing there, of course. Oh the water was in turmoil, sand swirling in the maelstrom, shapes redolent of ghosts in the tumult. But in those lifeless waters of the harbour there was nothing more.

__________

Notes:

1. Written on the 8th July, 2022
2. An attempt at a ghost story
3. And based upon a dream

Sundays

Our weeks are pretty regimented. The same stuff on the same days, never any deviation from the plan. Monday to Friday it’s school in the day, homework at night. Saturdays we go to the library in the morning, play boardgames and cards in the afternoon while Dad cooks us fish and chips for dinner.

On Sundays they take us to the woods and leave us there. We can do anything. There’s no one to stop us. Out come the claws, the teeth. Our shrieks and howls scare the pigeons from the trees, scatter the rabbits through the brush. We go wild in there. We lose our minds.

Then back home for bath and bed.

__________

Notes:

1. Written on January 2nd, 2023

Tales From The Town #91: The Watch

They found it in the woods. The glass was shattered. Its hands refused to move. But once or twice a day it worked as perfectly as could be.

__________

Notes:

1. Written on June 4th, 2022