Wednesday, June 1, 2011


Sir Phillip W descended upon me with a zest
reserved for celebrations and uprisings. I was
astonished when he produced a strange burlap
package, presenting it to me, a man he did not

"Tidings from the future," he smirked as
he handed off the mystery box and turned
on his heels. Their was a mischievous glint in
his eyes. The smile did not cover the intention.

I hesitantly opened the carefully wrapped box--
which was postmarked a fortnight ahead--with
more than a passing puzzlement. There was a
funeral notice for King Kenneth embedded in
the wrapping. I mused that the seeming novelty
item might in truth be sure. There was a great 
onus attached to the box's energy.

My confusion dispatched awareness as the
impending threat became a familiar understanding.
Yes, this seemed quite unavoidable now that the
thought came introduced so intimately.

There was suddenly a great flurry of activity
about the palace before me. The three Princes
apparent were racing hurriedly and in a state of
dismay. Had they been shown the dark portent?
Had they formulated it? Or were they more aware
than I of what was already occurring?

I quietly observed and sensed a conspiratorial
air about the proceedings. My sense was that
the king had already passed, and there was an
effort to keep mum to the timing and the particulars.
What would cause such a need? I did not wish to
know. My station was sufficient for me.

Rumblings in my gut and heart told me that the
deed had come to pass, but there was a
discrepancy afoot. Whether May nor June,
evening or morn, no one seemed quite certain.
The news of passing was even shrouded in

I cared only for one thing, the dead no
longer in pain; the wellness of the one who had
tied me to this event. The adopted prince, who
was surely beside himself with grief, and yet
required to maintain noble stability for the kingdom,
as was his inestimable skill and duty.

I scanned the busied throngs, and witnessed Sir
Phillip with a few women, indistinguishable as
to identity of wife or daughters or other. There was
a different air about him now. Perhaps he was
only the courier. I was curious as to why such a notice
would be delivered in this manner, so barely preempting
the event itself? Perhaps it was just means of keeping
up with the insides of such a stealthy operation.

Much is required of the insightful without ever having
a need to draw attention to awareness or insight.

There was mention in the mock-up of the great delay
between event and announcement, and again between
announcement and memorial. Something was definitely
afoot. The separation between days, the 5's and 7's
and 12's, the specifics of the matter did not make
any sense to me, but such things usually became
important in time, and with less direct thought.

Four a.m. Tuesday morning impressed itself upon my
consciousness, and I rid myself of the burden of
the package. I jotted a few quick notes from my
addled place of distraction, and went about my
business. This, certainly, was none of mine. What
had happened had happened, was unavoidable, and
the prince had made clear he had no use or need
of my services.

He would be fine, as always. Things would proceed
along the lines set forth. Change is ever the way of
the world, for the magnificent and those deemed lowly
alike. Death comes for us all, and neither riches nor
position can alter such matters. Tis just another day
for those still burdened with life.

There will never be another. God save the King.