Months pass on the black side of the moon. It’s time to step back into the light.

It’s still no less true that SHELL is but the beginning (of something–but rather the middle or even a caboose of other things). We’ll venture next into a djinn’s lamp for a mostly lighthearted (though rather weighty and grim at times) journey to the Wizard Dremen’s tower–a bare spine wedged in the mountains at the eastern edge of the Lamp Land. This tale, like many before it and after it and alongside it, is one spun by curiosity–that of a young girl–and an equally curious mind with a pen. This reality will come out of the shadows sometime next year.

After that… it may be time to change the window into which we glimpse. For Fantasy and the Great Escape is great and all, loved and desired and needed by many, but the fact of the matter is that the World has forever changed: windows are closing. Doors are being bolted shut. Nefarious “keys” are becoming ever more required – expected – assumed. But the “keys” aren’t cheap. They’re the price of flesh. Of soul. So we might have to talk about that in a roundabout way in the City of Antwood. Or elsewhere, perhaps somewhere more accessible, like the pending Last of the Analogs blog-space.

This is a late night ramble, but one that needed to happen. For sanity. For a spark of light. To betray movement and let it be known that there are rumblings in the underground. To let it be known that the belly hungers and hibernation is coming to an end.

Autumn is the best season. As some things disintegrate and go to sleep, other things awaken. Things like the starving mind. Bless.