Today's Word: Foible


Royson, hero of the four day war of vermin, strained against the thick ropes binding his wrists and ankles. The fiber was far too thick, the knots too tight for him to break free, but he thought if he could only rub enough blood on them he might slip loose.
"No use trying to win free, boy," said the crone as she chopped mixed vegetables into her man-sized cauldron. "I've ensorcled those bindings. They'll not loose unless I command it."
Royson glared at the witch who had captured him unawares as he lay sleeping on the downlands.
"How can you do it, woman? How can you eat the flesh of men who are your brothers in humanity?"
The witch stopped, stared at him critically, and seemed to consider this.
For one brief moment, Royson believe he may have touched the ancient woman's heart -- roused some thread of sympathy and feeling within her shriveled soul.
Then she flashed a gap-toothed smile colored brown and yellow, and said, "Well, hero, we all have our little foibles."


-- david j.