The small child with wild brown curls and chocolate smeared across his chin was back again. He stumbled through the weeds and thorny bracken towards a small, hollowed tree stump, carpeted with lichen and tiny golden mushrooms. In the child’s grasp was a thick stack of pages, roughly bound with cloth and bark. Resting against the stump—to the chagrin of one small, bumpy-backed amphibian observing from the liquid shadows of a nearby puddle—the child spread out his pages across the grass and began to scribble….Continue Reading “Of Ballads & Bumpy Black Toads”
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