The Very Secret Diary of Falafel
Day – oh, who cares?! One is as boring as another, and I’ve lost track. How long has my mistress been living in this city? How long have I been quartered in this stable which does not deserve that name, being so flimsy that I hardly dare breathe for fear of causing its walls to come down?
Oh, I know it’s the best Merisuwyniel can do; I don’t suppose she earns much, and most of it goes for feeding and lodging Tofu and me. Bless her tender heart, she can’t bring herself to sell him, feeling obliged to care for him after the death of his master. He deserves better than to be hitched to some farmer’s cart, she says, and she’s right, of course. Who’d have thought that a steed with so much intelligence would pine so for Halfullion? He was handsome and heroic, to be sure, but rather half-witted, if you ask me, which no one does, since even Merisuwyniel forgets that I can understand and speak her language, to say nothing of being able to write. Oh dear, I’m rambling, but I guess it doesn’t matter, since no one will ever see this. Can you imagine what it would be like if diaries were kept in public places for everyone to read? Unthinkable!
There was a time when I thought that Tofu might hitch up with me, but he has gone through such a depression as a result of being unemployed that he has no energy for more than a lukewarm platonic friendship. Nothing that I can say comforts him. I wish he would find a new hero to give his life purpose, but heroes are hard to come by, even in the capital city of Grundor, with all of its warriors.
I wonder if we will ever leave this city, with its stone houses and unfriendly cobbled streets. It would be nice to travel again, to see new places, gallop down foreign roads, and rest in the shade of unknown forests. Sometimes I get the hopeful feeling that Merisuwyniel is dissatisfied with her life here. I guess healing isn’t as exciting as being a shieldmaiden.
Dear me, I’d better hide this quickly – there she is! And so unexpectedly early in the morning; isn’t she working today? Now she’s stopped to talk to Sethamir; it looks like he’s demanding payment from her. Her wallet must be empty, for she has opened it and showed it to him.
Oh my, what’s happening now? A warrior has come in, brandishing his sword – careful! Someone could get hurt! Oh, it’s Etceteron; I didn’t recognize him without the smell of alcohol two miles upwind. Whoa, what’s that? A very black, very handsome, very large stallion – it looks like he’s gotten a quite adequate replacement for Baklava! Let’s see if he’ll look my way…
[ July 13, 2003: Message edited by: Estelyn Telcontar ]
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'Mercy!' cried Gandalf. 'If the giving of information is to be the cure of your inquisitiveness, I shall spend all the rest of my days in answering you. What more do you want to know?' 'The whole history of Middle-earth.. .'
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