A Pen and a Fountain

I like the quiet times, when it is early in the morning and nobody else is around. It is not that I dislike company, far from it, but sometimes, a little solitude is good. I wandered by the tavern, thinking maybe to get a quick drink. Nobody was there, but there was a note from Aoibheann on the counter. Rather strangely, it was a sketch map, presumably of the island, though nobody who had seen it from the air would recognise it. But then, I forget, not everybody can fly. There was a note in the corner saying she wouldn’t be around, but the map showed where I might find her if I did need her. I could not, at this time of the morning, think of any reason why I should, but just in case, I tucked it into my pocket. It was a pleasant morning, so instead of retreating to the hills, I parked myself in the garden to continue working on Edmund’s adventures. The sound of the fountain was soothing, but ther breeze did occasionally blow some drops of water my way. It was still easier than trying to write in the wind and the rain. Tonight, I should make the effort to be sociable again, and maybe offer to teach Aoibheann how to write a little better.

Handwritten extract from Chapter 5

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