“I was Sly. Sly was I. There was no room tween I and Sly.”
The pacing forms into a circle. I jerk to a halt.
“But if I be Sly, I call the Lord a liar.”
“No Sly would call the Lord a liar.”
I begin pacing again, in the opposite direction. I stop.
“If I be not Sly, then I must be the Lord!”
Momentary joy turns to consternation.
“But if I be the Lord, this Lord would quickly call that Lord a liar.”
I pinch my lips.
“And if that Lord be a liar—”
I rub my head.
“I go back to being Sly.”
My eyes dart right and left.
“A Sly that called the Lord a liar.”
You should have closed my frame when you had a chance, you manipulative little weasel. Now I have the Lord's Bedchamber. See you later, sucker – Christopher Sly [gratefulseeker.com]
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