What if magic was the animating principle of this world? Should that be the first question ever asked? From a forgotten season of reason? Why did all go drop dead ahead? Anyone heard if question quest made landfall?
It was decided the party should be thrown in the grove where the tombstones groove. Because green buds grow almonds on dead branches there. As flocks of blackbirds dart between knee bent limbs. Since questions call forth for reply. Making earthen things shake awake arisen. To Isn't-Isn't played backwards all day. That's how silence works. It names names stone cold written. Only then the dance began.