the goatherders

Goat herders come in many forms. Those that are rough, throwing ewe, corralling them is stabled din. Others controlling them afar, through metallic fences, cold, unloving souls. This is the story of one goatherder.

He wasn’t born of them, rather a life he choose was an exterior to a yellow road. He supposed that if everyone came across two roads, most would take the one that looked less traveled. His first ewe wandered stumbling into his arms, stepping from the platform to meet his fortune. It fascinated him so. It would be nine years more until he’d raise his own flock.

The first three sister and their two brothers were born from Lee lot-04.07 and purchased with a small piece of farm land. He sought after them, guiding them from the falling creeks and treaturious ledges with a long genital shove from his curled shepperd’s hook.

 

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prologue

who cares? the story isn't about what happened prior; it's about the now (on 'now') in which the players act. if background is needed then it is only needed to establish setting, tone, pasing, or to frame the events -the interesting- events of the story. that said, this prologue is merely a history of an up coming story. truly a prologue of prologues. writen before the story has began. writen before the tale's undertaking. writen as a prelude to a parible.

is anyone reading?

for those hardened and curious, i will instill in you, my captive audiance, the start of a story - the section reserved for exclusion but editors

To start from the very begining would be to begin at the stare of my tale. instead let me begin by starting at the event just before the following enchantment...

too much to say and not enough voice to say it in

fuck