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

The First DreamThe Second DreamThe Third DreamThe Fourth DreamThe Fifth DreamThe Sixth DreamThe Seventh DreamThe Eighth DreamThe Ninth DreamThe Tenth DreamThe Eleventh DreamThe Twelfth DreamThe Thirteenth DreamThe Fourteenth DreamThe Fifteenth DreamThe Sixteenth DreamThe Seventeenth DreamThe Eighteenth DreamThe Nineteenth DreamThe Twentieth DreamThe Twenty First DreamThe Twenty Second DreamThe Twenty Third DreamThe Twenty Fourth DreamThe Twenty Fifth DreamThe Twenty Sixth DreamThe Twenty Seventh DreamThe Twenty Eighth DreamThe Twenty Ninth DreamThe Thirtieth DreamThe Thirty First DreamThe Thirty Second DreamThe Thirty Third DreamThe Thirty Fourth DreamThe Thirty Fifth DreamThe Thirty Sixth DreamThe Thirty Seventh DreamThe Thirty Eighth DreamThe Thirty Ninth DreamThe Fortieth DreamThe Forty First DreamThe Forty Second DreamThe Forty Third DreamThe Forty Fourth DreamThe Forty Fifth DreamThe Forty Sixth DreamThe Forty Seventh DreamThe Forty Eighth DreamThe Forty Ninth DreamThe Fiftieth DreamThe Fifty First DreamThe Fifty Second DreamThe Fifty Third DreamThe Fifty Fourth DreamThe Fifty Fifth DreamThe Fifty Sixth DreamThe Fifty Seventh DreamThe Fifty Eighth DreamThe Fifty Ninth DreamThe Sixtieth DreamThe Sixty First DreamThe Sixty Second DreamThe Sixty Third DreamThe Sixty Fourth DreamThe Sixty Fifth DreamThe Sixty Sixth DreamThe Sixty Seventh DreamThe Sixty Eighth DreamThe Sixty Ninth DreamThe Seventieth DreamThe Seventy First DreamThe Seventy Second DreamThe Seventy Third DreamThe Seventy Fourth DreamThe Seventy Fifth DreamThe Seventy Sixth DreamThe Seventy Seventh DreamThe Seventy Eighth DreamThe Seventy Ninth DreamThe Eightieth DreamThe Eighty First DreamThe Eighty Second DreamThe Eighty Third DreamThe Eighty Fourth DreamThe Eighty Fifth DreamThe Eighty Sixth DreamThe Eighty Seventh DreamThe Eighty Eighth DreamThe Eighty Ninth DreamThe Ninetieth DreamThe Ninety First DreamThe Ninety Second DreamThe Ninety Third DreamThe Ninety Fourth DreamThe Ninety Fifth DreamThe Ninety Sixth DreamThe Ninety Seventh DreamThe Ninety Eighth DreamThe Ninety Ninth DreamThe Hundredth DreamThe Hundred And First DreamThe Hundred And Second DreamThe Hundred And Third DreamThe Hundred And Fourth DreamThe Hundred And Fifth DreamThe Hundred And Sixth DreamThe Hundred And Seventh DreamThe Hundred And Eighth DreamThe Hundred And Ninth DreamThe Hundred And Tenth DreamThe Hundred And Eleventh DreamThe Hundred And Twelfth DreamThe Hundred And Thirteenth DreamThe Hundred And Fourteenth DreamThe Hundred And Fifteenth DreamThe Hundred And Sixteenth DreamThe Hundred And Seventeenth DreamThe Hundred And Eighteenth DreamThe Hundred And Nineteenth DreamThe Hundred And Twentieth DreamThe Hundred And Twenty First DreamThe Hundred And Twenty Second DreamThe Hundred And Twenty Third DreamThe Hundred And Twenty Fourth DreamThe Hundred And Twenty Fifth DreamThe Hundred And Twenty Sixth DreamThe Hundred And Twenty Seventh DreamThe Hundred And Twenty Eighth DreamThe Hundred And Twenty Ninth DreamThe Hundred And Thirtieth DreamThe Hundred And Thirty First DreamThe Hundred And Thirty Second DreamThe Hundred And Thirty Third DreamThe Hundred And Thirty Fourth DreamThe Hundred And Thirty Fifth DreamThe Hundred And Thirty Sixth DreamThe Hundred And Thirty Seventh DreamThe Hundred And Thirty Eighth DreamThe Hundred And Thirty Ninth DreamThe Hundred And Fortieth DreamThe Hundred And Forty First DreamThe Hundred And Forty Second DreamThe Hundred And Forty Third DreamThe Hundred And Forty Fourth DreamThe Hundred And Forty Fifth DreamThe Hundred And Forty Sixth DreamThe Hundred And Forty Seventh DreamThe Hundred And Forty Eighth DreamThe Hundred And Forty Ninth DreamThe Hundred And Fiftieth Dream

IllustrationsNotes, References and Acknowledgements

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Tales From The Town #86: The Very Last Page Of The Book

It was always blank, the very last page of a book. Tina found this almost incomprehensibly sad. She always had. She always will. The sort of sadness that if you tried to explain it would simply dissipate away as soon as it left your lips, like your breath in winter. The sort of sadness that if you tried to alleviate it by filling all that emptiness in with words of your own would only get worse and worse until you could not look.

So she treasured it for herself. Her own secret sadness. It was nice knowing it was there. She could look at it whenever she wanted to. Look away when she’d had enough.

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Notes:

1. Written on January 1st, 2022
2. This is the last chapter of the pointlessly palindromic sequence started here.
3. 30 odd tales ago.

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Tales From The Town #66: Minor Complaints

1: Poetical Complaints

“Claire, you’ve stolen my poetry books again!” Tina said. “Stop stealing my poetry books!”

“I have not!” Claire said. “I don’t even like poetry.”

“You do like poetry,” Tina said. “You just pretend you don’t because I like poetry.”

“That might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Claire said. “The reason I don’t like poetry is because it’s stupid and you’re stupid and I didn’t steal your poetry books anyway so who cares what I think of poetry!”

“Well if you didn’t steal them who did?” Tina said. “And don’t blame Daniel or Ethel because I already asked them and they definitely didn’t steal any.”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Claire said. “Maybe no one stole them. Maybe you never even HAD any poetry books in the first place and you’ve made all this up to annoy me.”

“Of course I had some poetry books,” Tina said. “I write all my poems in them. Which is why I want at least one of them back right now, Claire! Because I just wrote a poem.”

“Well you don’t need your poetry book back then,” Claire said. “Seeing as you’ve already written this one down somewhere else. Use that as a poetry book instead.”

“But I can’t. I wrote it in my head!” Tina said. “I need to get it out of there as quickly as possible!”

Claire snorted at this in derision. “The only thing worse than poetry,” she said, as she stomped down the stairs. “Is poets!”

2: Technological Complaints

“Have you seen my phone, Oya?”

“No. Actually, I was just going to ask you if you’ve seen mine.”

“I haven’t. I was planning on using it to ring mine.”

“And I was planning on using yours to ring mine.”

“I told you we should buy a spare one for emergencies.”

“Wait, I told you we should buy a spare one for emergencies.”

“If only we’d listened to each other!”

“But then what if we lost that one as well? How many spare ones would we need before it was physically impossible to lose all of them at once?”

“We could glue one of them to the desk.”

“That’s not a bad idea actually. Maybe tape another one to the wall.”

“It’ll be like we’re living in the 80s!”

“One of us could have a pager!”

“I don’t even know how pagers work!”

“They’re like twitter I think. But just one message at a time. And the message is a number that you have to decode.”

“That sounds brilliant.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“Why don’t we still do that? Imagine having to take out a little notebook from your pocket every time you get a message just so you can look up what it means and who it was from!”

“Not a notebook. A filofax!”

(laughter)

“So anyway, I wonder where our phones went.”

3: Artistic Complaints

“Mum, have you seen our paintings of the whale that we made?” Ethel asked

“The whale AND the penguin,” Daniel added. “And a heron.”

“We were going to show them to Lucas,” Ethel said. “But now we can’t find them.”

“Weren’t they hanging from the washing line?” Agnes said. “That’s where I saw them.”

“But we looked there and the only thing on the washing line is some sheets,” Ethel said.

“And some of our paint,” Daniel said. “Which is now on the sheets.”

“So our paintings are back to front!” Ethel said. “We can’t show Lucas back to front paintings.”

“Maybe Lucas will like that,” Agnes said. “Considering you keep telling me he lives in the mirror.”

“But we painted them back to front because he lives in the mirror,” Ethel said.

“So now they’re front to back,” Daniel said.

“Which will be completely back to front by the time Lucas sees them,” Ethel said. “It’s a disaster!”

Ethel and Daniel put their hands in the air and ran out of the kitchen screaming in unison.

“You could turn the sheets round,” Agnes called after them in her ever practical way, but Ethel and Daniel were having none of it. Panicking was too much fun.

__________

Notes:

1. Written on the 18th and the 19th of May, 2022

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old books

faded spines
full of cracks and creases
the pages as dry and brittle
as bone
and haunted
with memories
not always their own

__________

Notes:

1. Written on June 26th, 2022

__________

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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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Tales From The Town #56: The Very First Page Of The Book

Tina loved the very first page of a book. After the cover, before the title, before any review quotes or bibliographies, author’s bios, copyright information, there it was, that first page of the book, blank and unsullied and pristine.

It wasn’t even a page by most people’s reckoning. Just the back of the cover, neither in the book nor out. A nul page, anti content.

There was so much potential in the emptiness. Tina trembled with anticipation. Anything could happen from here.

__________

Notes:

1. Written on the 30th March, 2022

__________

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.

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Thank you!