Ever unrelenting, monsters pace the outer edges. They stare in from dark places that we learn as young children to fear. Places of shame. Places of wild disorder. Places of disobedience.
Places of vanity and cannibalism.
These bejeweled dragons nearly shocked me off the sidewalk with such a spectacle. To retaliate, I bought the plainest socks I could find and nibbled my fingers when no one was watching.
Monsters are often fickle and prone to tempestuous mood swings. When dealing with them it is best to use caution, politeness, and a big stick in whatever order seems most pertinent.
While wandering in Nevada, Kate and Julia attempted to soothe a rock monster who apparently misunderstood their actions and decided to take revenge. As monster aficionados, we should have donned our bright orange safety vests and beat the rock with big sticks while apologizing profusely. We did not, and now Kate must suffer the consequences.
The sour-faced rock cursed unaware Kate with a hex which will eventually turn her into a tree-person. That rock monster has proved to be particularly powerful, or just particularly insulted at Kate and Julia’s imitations, and dealt Kate a curse the consumes her with agonizing slowness. After weeks of nails falling out and bark erupting in rashy patches, only Kate’s left arm is a stick.
Her other limbs remain fleshy; there have been worries of leaves, but it is not known at this time if leaves are growing on her head or merely seeking shelter there. All that is left to do is water her feet and hope.
