All Empires Fall Eventually. It Is The

At The Center, Where A Cuckoo Bird Would Live In A More Traditional Timepiece, Is The Juggler. Dressed In Harlequin Style With A Grey Mask, He Juggles Shiny Silver Balls That Correspond To Each Hour. As The Clock Chimes, Another Ball Joins The Rest Until At Midnight He Juggles Twelve Balls In A Complex Pattern. After Midnight The Clock Begins Once More To Fold In Upon Itself. The Face Lightens And The Clouds Return. The Number Of Juggled Balls Decreases Until The Juggler Himself Vanishes. By Noon It Is A Clock Again, And No Longer A Dream.

I Don’t Have The Time To Devote To Circles Or Covens. I Have To Fit Things In When And Where I Can, In Stolen Moments And Cups Of Coffee. Stirring Clockwise To Conjure. Widdershins To Banish. There’s Never Enough Time, And Rarely Enough Caffeine, But I Make Do With What I Have. Besides, Cauldrons And Pointy Hats Are Overrated. Sometimes I See Other Customers Practicing. Pouring Their Cream And Sugar With Studied Intent. Stirring With Purpose. I Add An Extra Spoonful Of Sugar To My Own Coffee For Them, To Make All Of Our Enchantments Sweeter.

So Proper For A Circus Girl," Mme. Padva Says With With A Gleam In Her Eye. "we Shall Have To Loosen Those Corset Laces If We Intend To Keep You An Intimate Dinner Company." "i Expected The Corset Unlacing Would Take Place After Dinner," Celia Says Mildly, Earning A Chorus Of Laughter. "we Shall Keep Miss Bowen As Intimate Company Regardless Of The State Of Her Corset," Chandresh Says. "make A Note Of That," He Adds, Waving A Hand At Marco. "miss Bowen's Corset Is Duly Noted, Sir," Marco Replies, And The Laghter Bubbles Over The Table Again.

I Am Haunted By The Ghost Of My Father, I Think That Should Allow Me To Quote Hamlet As Much As I Please.

...he Is Sure That The Bailey He Is Now Is Closer To The Bailey He Is Supposed To Be Than The Bailey He Had Been Before