Tale #150: The Man Who Left

There was a man who had lived for a long time on his own. One day, while walking in the woods, he met a woman and they fell into love. One night, a few quick months later, she fell into labour, and while the doctor and his midwives attended to her the man went outside for a walk.

He headed out into the woods and there was met by men recruiting for the army, and very quickly they impressed him into service. He spent many years away, and was forced there to fight incomprehensible battles in unknowable places for increasingly unclear reasons. He became so weary and distraught by this life of constant toil and terror that it was only his dreams of returning to his wife and child that kept him sane.

Eventually there came a battle the army could not win. A bullet struck him in the lung and he fell down among the corpses of his colleagues and stayed there. When the battle drew to a close and the victorious walked among the wounded to deal them their final blows, he lay still and pretended to be dead in the hope that they would pass him by.

The true corpses attracted the crows. But the crows left his body well alone, for his stench was not yet to their liking. The soldiers drew ever closer, and he feared he would soon be found.

‘Crow,’ he called. ‘Please come here and feed upon me, if only for a little while, so that I may look as if I am dead. For if I am found alive I will be killed stone dead, and never will I be able to return to my love, who I was snatched cruelly from, nor see the face of my child, who was born scant hours after my abduction and whom I have never seen at all.’

Even though the offer was a poor one, for if the man was dead the crow would have his whole body to eat rather than a mere moment’s bite, it took pity upon him and hopped up onto his face. And as the soldiers approached the crow pecked out his eye.

Convinced the man was dead, they passed on by. When it was safe again to speak, the man thanked the crow. ‘And you may have my lung as well,’ he said. ‘For it is dead now inside me, and shall only rot and fester there around my heart,’ and he reached into the bullet hole in his chest and pulled out his lung from within him, much like a magician pulling handkerchiefs from the pockets of his coat.

In thanks for this kind gift, the crow told the man where he was, and how he could get home. The way was long, however, and it took him many years to make his way back. One particularly cold winter in the hills he lost his toes to frostbite, and one especially hot summer by the sea he lost his hand when a mouthful of water stolen from a king’s fountain was punished as severely as could be.

It was well into the sixteenth year of his exile when he finally arrived home. He knocked on the door of his old house and a woman answered.

‘Is that you?’ his old love said.

‘It is,’ he said.

‘What happened to you?’

‘I lost a lung to a bullet, and my eye to a crow. I lost my hand for water, and my toes to snow. But all these years I have saved my heart for you.’ And he opened up his chest and pulled out his heart and placed it beating in her trembling hands.

‘What would I want with this?’ she asked. ‘What could I want with it? I hardly know you. I hardly ever knew you. You left and the world went on for all of us. You didn’t save your heart for me. It was always yours, and yours alone. The dream of me that kept you alive was a dream, and was not me. And it was your dream, and yours alone. Give your dream-wife this heart, and leave me to mine.’

And she handed him back his heart, and went on with her life. And he, eventually, with his.

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Notes:

1. Written in February 2015
2. This was first published in November 2018
3. In An Outbreak Of Peace, edited by Cherry Potts, and published by Arachne Press
4. Which is a very nice book
5. Filled with very nice stories
6. Much better than my own.
7. Also in 2015, this was adapted into a song
8. Also called The Man Who Left
9. By Vom Vorton
10. And which you can listen to below:




11. You can also read the lyrics to it right here too.
12. If you so wish.
13. Which you should.
14. Because they’re brilliant
15. And much better than my own.
16. The Man Who Left by Vom Vorton

There was a man who lived alone, and one day he went walking
while in the woods, he met a girl, and soon they started talking
inevitably, they fell into love, and one night, some months later,
he took her to the hospital as she had entered labour
for hours she howled and thundered, in pain and drenched in sweat
and so the man went for a walk, to the place where they had met.
He stumbled across men who were recruiting for the navy
they were not the kind of men who accepted “no” or “maybe”

and so he missed his child’s birth, he was not holding her hand
he was fighting for his country in wars he didn’t understand
and at night, as the ship shook and he feared for his life
he kept himself sane with thoughts of his wife
then one day, a battle came that they could not win
a bullet hit his chest, struck a lung and stuck within
he fell among his colleagues, and played dead upon the deck
but he heard footsteps come closer and he knew that they would check

he saw a crow pecking at a body nearby
and said “crow, come here, and peck out my eye
if the soldiers come closer they will hear my breath
but if they see you feeding on me they will believe in my death
and I may yet survive to return to my home
to the wife that I love and the child I’ve never known”
the offer was a poor one, but the crow’s stomach was full
so it was inclined to take pity and pecked the eyeball from his skull

when the soldiers had retreated and it became safe to speak
the man thanked the crow, eyeball dripping from its beak
and said “since my lung is dead in my chest
I will give it to you to take back to your nest”
pulling flesh from his body like tissues from a sleeve
the crow took his offering and started to leave
but not before telling the man where it was that he lay
and, knowing of his hometown, he told him of the way

the man was far from home and over winter he froze
through the snow he continued, but frostbite took his toes
and in summer, it was hot, and after stealing holy water
the king took his hand, after sparing his slaughter
after many years of exile, he found a place he knew
and a woman answered quietly, “Is that you?”
she looked at his face and his clothes, torn and blackened
and she quietly asked “what on earth happened?”

“I lost a lung to a bullet, and my eye to a crow.
I lost my hand for water, and my toes to snow.
But my mind remained strong and my love remained true
and all these years I saved my heart for you.”
With his remaining hand he pulled his shirt apart
And he opened up his chest and pulled out his heart
“I carried this for you across the oceans and lands”
and he placed it beating in her trembling hands.

“What would I want with this?” She asked. “I hardly even met you.”
“You left and the world went on. We started to forget you.
You didn’t save your heart for me. It was always yours alone.
That woman in your dreams was not me, but a clone.
She only existed in the shadows of your mind.
Give her this heart, and leave me to mine.”

And she handed him his heart, and forgot his name.
And eventually, he did the same.

17. Also, this is the end of A Thousand And One Tales
18. At least for now
19. Because I’ve run out of stories
20. And it’s a new year
21. And it’s cold out there
22. And I’m lonely
23. And sad.

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Tale #25: The King And The Light

There once was a King who had ruled his kingdom for many years, and there remained no-one who dared to question him. Such was his power that there were none upon the earth who he considered his equal, and so one day he called down a star from the night sky and bade her walk with him. It was there, in his vast garden, that he asked her to be his wife.

“Where would I live?” she asked.

“In my castle,” the King replied.

The star laughed, and said she could not, for she was used to the vastness of space, and walls were not to her liking.

“Well then, if not in my castle how about in the fields of my kingdom?” he said, and he showed her the extent of his fields and the vastness of his domain. “All this is mine, and within it you can go where you please, for you would be Queen and none but me would dare stop you.”

But still she refused.

“Even your kingdom has borders. And borders themselves are walls,” she said. “Walls of another kind, yes, but they constrain all the same.”

“Then, if not my wife, my prisoner you will be,” the King said, and he called for his guards to capture her.

To this the star replied, “Wife, servant, prisoner, slave – what difference would it make what you call me? Without choice, the imprisonment is just the same.”

The King’s guards led her to the deepest and darkest part of the castle’s vast filthy dungeons, and there, in the smallest cell, they locked her inside. “Perhaps when this cell has dimmed the fire in your heart you will see the error of your ways,” the King said to the star.

To which the star said to the King, “It is not only me this cell holds in place, for you as well are bound by it.” But the King would not listen, and he left her there, glowing to no-one in the dark.

After a week, the King returned and asked once more for her hand in marriage. The star looked just as bright as before, if not brighter, and still she refused. “If a week is not enough to change your mind, then so be it,” said the King.

“And to you I say the same,” said the star. But the King would not listen.

After a month, the King returned for a second time, and asked her again to marry him. The star’s radiance was brighter than ever and she refused once more. “If a month is not enough to change your mind, then so be it,” said the King.

“And to you again I say the same,” said the star. But the King would not listen.

After a year, the King returned for a final time. “I have asked you three times to marry me, and three times you have refused. If you refuse me a fourth time, I shall abandon you here and you shall know nothing more but imprisonment for the rest of your days.”

By now the star was so bright the King had to shield his eyes against her majesty. “I have spent a year in this cage, hoping each day that you would come to understand that these walls have imprisoned you just as much as me. But you have understood nothing.”

The star reached out and took the King by the hand. “Look, I shall show you,” she said. And with that her brightness flared and the King’s castle was burned to the ground, and the people within were set free.

And then she shone more brilliantly than ever before, and every wall and building in the country was reduced to ash, although the people within were left unharmed.

And then her brightness exploded outwards once more and the walls and the borders of all the Earth were destroyed and everyone across the world was set free. And in the comfort of her light there was much rejoicing and a shared sense of kinship between all which would never fade.

The people of the world did give her praise, but they did not make a God of her, nor even a Queen, for her light had shown them that those that rule are another wall imposed upon the world, and the Gods themselves yet another.

To the King she said, “To you, and only you, shall I show a truly wall-less world, out beyond the binds of gravity.” And she bore him up into the immensity of space, and took him to the deepest and darkest part of her infinitely vast domain, and she set him down there in the darkness, where the only light was her own, for the rest of the stars were too far away to cast their light upon him.

“Now, my King, you are free.”

And she left him there in the dark, in the cold, far out beyond the walls of the world.

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Notes:

1. This was written in May, 2014
2. But was first published in November, 2016, in the anthology Liberty Tales, published by Arachne Press
3. You can see this story being performed by the actor Cliff Chapman at a Liberty Tales launch event here.
4. The illustration is by Holly English, the final of four illustrations she drew for these fairy tales.
5. The original title of this was The King And The Angel Of Light, but the angel bit got removed during the publication process.
6. I was really obsessed with the song not here/not now by the angels of light at the time I think

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Patreon subscribers get not just early access to content and also the occasional gift, but also my eternal gratitude. Which I'm not sure is very useful, but is certainly very real.

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An Outbreak Of Peace

I have a story, The Man Who Left, in An Outbreak Of Peace: Stories and poems in response to the end of WWI, a new anthology of short stories commemorating the 100th anniversary of the end of the first world war.

“November 2018 marks the centenary of the end of World War I. After all the commemorative works of art over the past four years, we felt it was important to reflect on what comes after – an outbreak of peace, and what that meant to the combatants and those left at home. This wide-ranging collection brings together stories and poems from many countries, on both sides of the 1914-18 conflict, finding their inspiration in many wars and their endings; together with stories and poems which are not about war at all, which is as it should be.”

There are two launch events for the book, one in London on November 14th (Housmans Bookshop, King’s Cross, 7pm), and one in Manchester on November 30th (Blackwells bookshop, near the Arthur Lewis Building at The University of Manchester, 6:30pm).

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Notes:

1. An Outbreak Of Peace is published by Arachne Press, and is released on the 8th November, 2018.
2. And is available in paperback and ebook formats.
3. I also had a story, The King And The Light, in Liberty Tales, another anthology from the same publisher, which was published in 2016.

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Support An Accumulation Of Things

If you like the things you've read here please consider subscribing to my patreon or my ko-fi.

Patreon subscribers get not just early access to content and also the occasional gift, but also my eternal gratitude. Which I'm not sure is very useful, but is certainly very real.

(Ko-fi contributors probably only get the gratitude I'm afraid, but please get in touch if you want more).

Thank you!