Be A Helper (part six) Bede was alone with Langham. Langham opened: “Surprised all this fancywork hasn’t got the rot.” Jorinda’s voice came, before Bede could think of a way to slip disagreement past Langham’s suspicious ear. “Help when you’re asked, Whimbrel. With hands and feet, mind.” Ah, yes. Bede had a task of his own he could help with. “We’ve got some lovely scarves, mittens, hats, socks, and a shawl your wife might like...”

From Superstition the Pendulum Your face carried home from the scene of horror Let nature raise you a colossus that prows Prows astraddle the edge of all landfalls Clocks will crack and mirrors stop Unluckiness the hostelman calls to roost The iron ring for a knocker hangs Sounds wood and metalcraft, chock and clang And the hand that would be death’s…

The Ad Said (part three) Along the rails was a place to walk, a narrow trench, not clearly intended…or clearly not intended…for public use. A wrong step could lose you your shoe. More rotten luck if it happened. “I can go first,” Hermie said. “Look out where you put your foot.” “God. The river.” Hettie wasn’t moving; she was leaning on a beam.

Where Fashion Sits   Are you the larval worm in the larder Every feathered pillow has this unseen delver You feel yourself layered in tissue paper Your rat’s race a…