by John of Cianden (Author)

Tell me again why we re doing this? John, Soul ticked, Where s your sense of adventure? A journey is its own reward. I scoffed, There better be cake. I demand a cake after all the effort of putting up with you. He feigned insult. I ll have you know that most people are delighted to speak to me. I laughed; I am most people! Oh pish posh, he countered. Now stop sulking and let s get going; you have a message to deliver. I wondered how many people would care for the letter I carry. Would I be able to deliver my message, or would I get lost in these ill-forsaken roads of destiny? What a funny word that is. And how cruel it is to I winced away from the memory as I set about walking without thinking. Of course where was I? John? Soul s familiar voice echoed through my skull Yes that s how we started it.

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