5 Anime Sonnets (and Two Random Others)

It's the end of the month, and with it I bring my final seven sonnets for a goal on The List:

027. Write 1 sonnet per day for 1 month

Honestly it's a relief to finish these. Sonnet-writing is not as fun as I seem to remember. Nor as easy.
Originally I'd planned to do something fun for this last week and write sonnets about anime, but the first and last ones here...aren't. But they're still kind of light-hearted and silly...

Daylight Savings Messes Up My Body Clock (And My Brain)

Alas, I planned to write of anime,

Of characters fictional and adored,

Yet as I sat down to my great dismay,

My brain did refuse and my thoughts all snored.

Tis folly to write with a mind like this,

With a head so clouded by cotton wool,

All quick-witted phrases have gone amiss--

My mind is no longer a sharpened tool.

Yet this foolish errand I shall not yield,

For on the morrow I will try again,

In hope that my thoughts do fly far afield,

To write wittily with digital pen.

Today there is something to place the blame:

Daylight Savings is its infernal name.

(This happens every damn year, and it always takes a good week for me to get used to everything being an hour different...)
 

An Egg By Any Other Name Could Not Be Beat

Do you see the great unbeatable Egg?

Wrapped up in his spandex suit of yellow,

Red gloves and boots on each strong fist and leg,

With his white cape he's a superb fellow!

See at his side the serious Toaster,

Young, that cyborg disciple of metal,

Admired is he: a boy of the poster,

His verbosity does the Egg nettle.

Yet together this duo save the earth,

(Albeit the Toaster often gets wreck'd)

Such heroes as these are of immense worth,

As monsters defeated, the sales are check'd.

For the best bargains are found before lunch,

So the Egg beats the monster with one punch.

(A sonnet about One Punch Man, because it's ridiculous and I love it)

24 Hours and the Sky: 8 Sonnets

Here I am again with more sonnets! This set of 8 is based around the sky and times of day.

Sun

A warm soul is he of many faces

Limpid and pale on a chill winter's morn

Yet when the spring comes how fast he races

To summon the daffodils from the lawn

And summer's image is so hot and bright

His broad beam inviting a sleepy trance

How golden he turns in the autumn light

As leaves of all colours take up their dance

But oft does he hide in a shroud of grey

Dull in his journey from dawn until dusk

Sometimes he burns those who walk at midday

Sparing no saint nor thief nor soul at busk

This giver of life fickle in his ways

Is predictable in his yearly phase

Moon

Ancient yet youthful is her form so pale,

Sometime rotund and sometime slight as fae,

As thru' the night's velvet skies doth she sail,

To aid the trav'ller who has lost his way.

On winter nights she wears rings of all shades,

A halo remains in spring's coolest air,

In summer she late arrives in the glades,

And autumn's harvest sees her smile so rare.

Yet some nights she shyly hides behind clouds,

Or turns her dark back to the weary soul,

And lamplight must govern the nightly crowds,

For darkness is friend only to the mole.

Again thru' the sky this pale lady rides,

This lighter of ways, mistress of the tides.

Stars

At moonrise in countless number you'll see

Kings and Queens of such marvellous brightness

Fine jewels in each patch of night velvety

Distant monarchs each with their own lightness

How far they are from our homeland humble

Yet strong enough that we know each by name

And even should one form take a tumble

We know its path: can calculate its aim

Tho' with each sunrise these royals do fade

Obscured behind the daytime's lightened skies

After the sun has made his grand parade

They reappear to soothe our weary eyes

Eternal bodies so noble and bright

Those Lords and Ladies of infinite night

Seasons and Sweet Things

Continuing on from last week's post about my month-long sonnet-writing challenge, here are the next eight!

Too Tired to Think of a Topic

Oft are there times in life when effort fails,

When the siren song of sleep is too great

And still falls the wind from the mind's white sails.

Whether the hour be early or too late,

Hard is the journey when the currents freeze,

And thought's great ship is trapped on oceans grey

As all on board await the wakeful breeze--

Yet drowsily long for the end of day.

But some may resist the lure of pillows

From time to time when oceans rise and fall,

And in fresh gusts of wind the sail billows,

And thoughts fly free amidst the seabird's call.

When sails fall and this vessel longs to sleep,

The answer is to concentrate, breathe deep.

(Because I was too tired to think of a topic)

Spring

Gentle her footsteps that herald warm light,

And quiet the sighs that rustle fresh leaves,

And tho' in her wake bloom flowers so bright,

That breath can turn cold and howl 'round the eaves.

For sometimes through meadows sweet she will rage,

And force newborn lives to shudder and hide,

Heavy her tears soak the travelling sage,

And spoils fragile blooms at winter's graveside.

Though often is her temperament harsh,

With her kind light are warmer days proclaimed,

For new life grows upon the cruellest marsh,

Under the care of that nature untamed.

So when the wind howls and rain blots the sky,

Know it is she who makes blooms multiply.

Angsts, Agitations and Animals: 8 Sonnets

At the end of February, I decided that March would be the month I attempted one of my writing goals from The List:

027. Write 1 sonnet per day for 1 month

This is the most challenging of my writing goals - more challenging than haiku, or flash fiction, or short stories of 1000+ words!

Sonnets have so many rules with regards their form, and whilst pretty much every sonnet I studied in school was a love poem, I decided to throw that out of the window this month and write sonnets on all kinds of subjects (though I guess I ought to try writing something affectionate at some point!)

Today I'm sharing my first 8 sonnets of the month. Some are serious, some are ridiculous, and the last one is pushing it a little.

So here goes.

Survivor to the Fog

On this merciless shore of stones and sighs,

Where the wreckers shine their deceitful light

And await the spoils amidst dying cries,

You are deathly fog on this stormy night.

When darkness lifts her curtain to the gloom,

And when the sun to heaven makes her climb,

Her feeble glow reveals this frozen tomb--

You are the ice of endless wintertime.

Yet others walk upon this untamed shore,

To seek survivors of this fog and ice

And reach out to those in a state so poor:

You are but the patter of fleeing mice

For though your blindfold may once more descend,

All fog lifts, all ice melts at winter's end.

 (Bad day? Low mood? POETRY.)

Ain't Nobody Got Time For That

Heark ye all! That young fellow doth approach!

In verdant splendour upon a fine wheel

Oh how we curse for the subject to broach:

What driveth this boy and what is his deal?

And here dwells a fellow with wide-eyed gaze

His coat as pale and soft as summer sand

He sayeth much good, very boy, amaze!

As his worshippers await close to hand.

Though many more have passed along this way

A humble few remain in mem'ries strong

And though no heed to logic do they pay

So many more are yet to pass along

Should time escape ye all or so it seems

Remember this: these fellows are but memes.

 (Yes, I wrote a sonnet about dat boi and doge)

The Way We Work: Flash Fictions 28-31

It's the end of the month, so here are the final four pieces for my flash fiction goal, written over the last four days!

Flash fictions 28-31:
Pareidolia - A supernatural story about seeing faces in things
Missed Connection - The tale of a man obsessed with timekeeping
Little Rituals - The story of a woman who counts
Finish Line - A tale of a woman who has to see things to their end

With the exception of Pareidolia, these are companion stories to Background Characters and Connections in the previous flash fiction post--about people with their little quirks and the habits they have to make life acceptable to themselves.

Hope you enjoy these ones!

Pareidolia

Date: 28th March 2017

Prompt: Orb

"It's a great image, good use of shadow, but you've got dust marks again," John handed the photo back to his disappointed student.

"I think it's in the film," said Emma, who had printed the same image six times with the same result.

"Let's see your film. Marks like this usually happen when the light catches dust particles in the atmosphere. Did you shoot with a flash?"

Emma shook her head and handed over the film. "I didn't need it"

John hummed as he studied the film through a magnifier at the light box. "It's definitely in the film..." He checked the other frames. "You've got dust in all of these."

"What can I do?"

"Clean your lens and reshoot. Pay more attention to dust in the air."

Emma nodded, knowing it wouldn't work. She'd already cleaned the lens and the mirror of her second-hand SLR camera, carefully loaded fresh film in a clean environment, yet still ended up with weird dust marks on all her photos. It didn't matter the location or the conditions she shot in, the annoying little circles continued to show up, like ethereal bubbles that had definitely not been there when she took the photo.

"My granny calls them spirit orbs," she commented.

Stories of Struggle: Flash Fictions 24-27

Here I am, nearing the end of the month, with nothing Done but photographs taken (roundup at end of the month) and flash fiction written.

There are four days left of the month, but here are my flash fictions from today and the previous three days--flash fictions 24-27:

Art Imitates Life: About strange happenings and an artist of particular talent
Green Triangles and Yellow Trees: The story of a blind man with synaesthesia, and a remarkable skill.
Background Characters: The tale of a man disconnected from those around him
Connections: A sequel to Background Characters, about a commuter who feels he is only existing, rather than living.

Art Imitates Life

Date: 24th March 2017

Prompt: Frame

In the upmarket part of town, Thompson's Gallery was where Grendel Thompson sold his paintings, and a few by select local artists.

Whenever Thompson completed a new canvas, he displayed it within an ornate, decaying gold frame in the window. It drew the attention of passers-by, who stopped to survey the latest of Thompson's works, and marvel at his talent for combining surrealism and photorealism.

Thompson's work was based on town life, featuring faceless figures of locals in odd situations, so people liked to see if they could spot themselves.

Whenever anyone recognised themselves, they would gasp excitedly.

Had they understood what would happen, those would have been gasps of horror.

Seas and Change: Flash Fictions 19-23

Though it's the only thing I've been posting this month (life has not been going to plan) here are more flash fictions.

This time, flash fictions for days 19-23!

Brighton, 1919: A sequel of sorts to Folk Tales of the Sea People, about Cadogan's son Julian.
Message in a Bottle...: A side-story to Folk Tales of the Sea People, about listening to Siren-song.
Travel Without a Ticket: A story about pushing againt barriers
Within: A tale of taking care with one's inner self
A Dragon's Name, A Dragon's Place: A sequel to How Helle Found the Monster (from Folk Tales of the Sea People)

I can't believe I ended up writing three new pieces in the Folk Tales... universe!

Brighton, 1919

Date: 19th March 2017

Prompt: Sea
Notes: A sequel to Folk Tales of the Sea People

The tide was out, and the bitter winter wind left the beach deserted but for one man.

Julian Browne, only a few days off his thirty-ninth birthday, ambled slowly over the pebbles, his coat fastened all the way up and a scarf wrapped around his neck to fend off the wind.

He wrapped his arms around himself as he continued along the beach, feeling the sheaf of papers concealed beneath the thick wool.

They were important, these papers. Ground-breaking, in fact. But in this, King George's England, they were considered the ravings of an unbalanced mind.

Not What You Might Think: Flash Fictions 15-18

Here's another batch of flash fictions, written for goal #26, as I try to catch up on posting what I've written!

Flash fictions 15-18 are:

Name Your Child Well - A story about names being the making of a person
Dirt and Diamonds - A scene in which some settlers get very cold
Passengers - The musings of a boatman
Morning People - A morning spent with a Morning Person

These tales may not all be what they initially seem, so please do give them a read!

Name Your Child Well

Date: 15th March 2017

Prompt: Autumn

She was named not for the season she was born in, but the next to come, named for the little tufts of red hair sprouting from her tiny head, for her rosy cheeks, and her brown eyes that peered out, inquisitive, from the pram.

Autumn grew up surrounded by friends. People flocked to her, drawn in by her warm smile and outwardly genial nature. They thought fondly of her when apart, remembering her glossy, fiery curls and chestnut eyes with that nostalgia that people think of the season she was named after: mild, comfortable, that sigh of relief after the heat of summer and that deep, leaf-scented breath before the freeze of winter.

Nobody thought about the tougher, less pleasant side of autumn: the dreary grey skies, the pouring rain, the mud and the slow fading of colour from the world.

You Reap What You Sow: Flash Fictions 10-14

Though I've been completely lax in updating with flash fiction, I have been writing it, and as a result have ten new pieces to share here.
Rest assured, I'm not posting them all today. Even with short stories, that can still amount to a lot of words!

For today, here's flash fictions 10-14:

Sour Child - A gentle story about tradition and superstition
Over The Wall  - A tale of overcoming obstacles
Tailed and Chased - About seeing what is around you
The Herbarium - A story of a flower collector, and karma
Tongues - An unpleasant tale of death and vengeance

The first three stories are pleasant. The last two, not so much...

Sour Child

Date: 10th March 2017

Prompt: Lemon

Notes: I know nothing about lemons and their growth cycles, and the first three links I clicked on after searching were pretty vague and unhelpful, so don't imagine I know what I'm talking about.

After the trinity of Winter, Spring and Summer, Autumn was the Lemon Season, when - as the world lost its colour and most trees dropped their leaves, the sacred lemon trees bore their fruit in brightest abundance.

There is a tradition, here in the southern borderlands, that during the Lemon Season, a man was to walk three times around a lemon tree with his beloved, then with eyes closed, pluck a lemon from the branches and present it to her. The lemon would then be taken and cut into two, and they would eat the lemon together, and its flavour would indicate the future that lay before them.

Clocks, Collectors, Change: Flash Fictions 5-9

The Account of Eve Undermountain

After the first four days of writing flash fiction, I'm continuing on with it, albeit with the occasional rush to get it written at 11pm after nearly forgetting.

This time around I have five pieces to share, perhaps a little less morbid than the first three!

House of Hands - A story about a woman with a rather unusual collection
The Account of Eve Undermountain - The tale of a land without sun
The Truth Behind the Propaganda - A reimagining of a faerie tale 
End of Time - A world of dust, about to change
Oversleeping - About people who live by the Clock...

House of Hands

Date: 5th March 2017

Prompt: Hands

Elizabeth liked hands. She had a collection of them. She used to show them off in the front windows of her cottage, which stood on the main street and could be seen by any that chanced by.

Then the parish council said it was a little too strange, and didn't suit the nature of the village, and could she please refrain from displaying them in public view in the future, please?

An Octopus and Some Cautionary Tales: Flash Fictions 1-4

At the end of February, I decided that March would be the month I attempted to complete another goal from The List:

026. Write 1 flash fiction per day for a month

For this, I'm considering 'flash fiction' to be any story 100-1000 words wrong, and I'm giving myself a writing time of 1 hour. I'm working from a list of single-word prompts.

Since I don't want to bombard this blog with story posts any more than I want to bombard it with photography posts (oops), I'll be posting them a few at a time.

Today, I'm sharing the first four stories:

Pips and Stones: A story about food and waste, and not believing everything you read.
A Fresh Start: A cautionary tale about adapting to one's surroundings.
Pride Comes Before...: A short story about an angry, loud man
The Octopus Goes North: A sequel to Yam and the Octopus from Folk Tales of the Sea People

These stories are not all pleasant. Future stories may not be pleasant either. People come to sticky ends, people are not nice. And the Octopus? The Octopus Remembers...

D.C. (A Tale of Zombies)

Way back in 2014, I entered a writing competition for goal #24.
I didn't win (I would have written here if I had!) but since I didn't, it means I can post it here!

I'm totally late with posting it, and I could have shared this at a more appropriate time of the year, such as Halloween, but for those of you needing a break from Christmas shenanigans, here is a story about zombies.

Warning: This is not a pleasant story.

D.C.

Scott was having the time of his life.

He was also dead.

No thoughts, no feelings and no responsibilities dampened his spirit. Scott knew only desire and instinct: desire for flesh, for food, instinct to hunt and conquer. It was like a never-ending stag weekend.

It was the desire that changed things. As Scott lurched down a shadowy alleyway one evening, a busty woman fell to the ground ahead. Scott’s gut growled, stomach digesting itself for lack of food. Hungry as he was, his craving for food was squashed by a primal instinct to take the woman as his own. All men had needs—even the dead ones, and his body hadn’t yet forgotten the desires of living men. He felt no concern or pity, thought not of her wellbeing or even of his own. Scott staggered towards her.

That was when the humans attacked.

Folk Tales of the Sea People: Contents

Back Cover for Folk Tales of the Sea People, July 2014

Contents

Not all tales have a happy ending. Indeed, not all tales are even conventional. These are Folk Tales of the Sea People, who sang their stories long before we learned to spin our own

Preface and Introduction
In which a modern-day professor comments on the fact science has proved that mermaids to not exist, and Cadogan Browne introduces his compilation with insistence that they do.

Halywn, or A Pinch of Salt
A tale of Selkie-folk in a saltless sea, set upon by a terrible creature--and what they do to defeat him.

A Havsrå's Fortune
The story of a lonely Havsrå, gifted with the ability to see into the future, but cursed that no Human man shall ever remember her face.

Yam and the Octopus
A simple story about a nosy boy and a grumpy octopus.

Golden Scales
In which Glyndwr the Vain learns not to be vain, through rather awful means. (Do note the warning at the beginning of this one).

The Clam Keeper and the Sailor
A story of a Siren and a Human, who meet upon the surface of the sea.

A Pearl for Your Daughter
A cautionary tale about a spoilt young Mermaid.

How Helle Found the Monster
In which a curious Selkie seeks to discover the source of the sea's warmth

The Gentleman Traveller
The tale of a frog-legged, dish-headed and very gentlemanly traveller in search of the ultimate sea-cucumber

The Woman on the Pier
A dramatic tale about a Näkki, an accident, and the troubles that follow.

Three Brothers and a Draug
A story about three identical Siren brothers, who must defeat a wicked Draug.

A Dragon in the Sea
The story of an outcast and angry Dragon, and the Siren girl and Selkie boy who try to help him.

The Wily Old Glashtyn
In which a pretty young Mermaid seeks the help of a wily old Glashtyn to win the heart of a prince.

A Raft on the Lagoon
A tale of Mermaids, Humans, Draugs and not-so-accidental death...

Six Silly Sisters
In which three Siren sisters meet three Human sisters, make a discovery, and prove just how silly people can be. 

The Fish Who Grew Legs
A tale of a Fish who wished to be a Nereid, and how he fared.

Fresh Water and Salt Water
The story of a salt water-dwelling Siren, who fell in love with a fresh water-dwelling Nereid.

That's sixteen stories in all, more than the ten I set out to write!
With regards to the image at the top of this post, it counts towards my goal of creating 52 paintings in a year. It's a simple image, painted with the idea of creating a 'back cover' for this story collection. Unfortunately I managed to bend the paper before I had a chance to scan it, argh!

Fresh Water and Salt Water

Here comes the final story from Folk Tales of the Sea People. 

With this, I conclude one of the goals on The List:

046. Write 10 original stories of 1000+ words

There is an illustration for this story, but this time it's at the end.

So without further ado, I bring you the tale of a siren and a nereid...

Fresh Water and Salt Water

There once was a handsome young man, a Siren like you and I, who was many tides past the age to become married. He had lustrous red hair and shining scales to match, and his fins were dark blue like the twilight sea. His name was Moana.

Everywhere Moana went, women stared and blushed at his handsome appearance, and sometimes some of the men did, too. Many young women lusted for Moana’s attention and the men, envious of Moana’s popularity, looked on in envy. Moana received many proposals of marriage from men and women across the kingdom. He found it most tiring to receive so much attention and turned down each and every request that came his way.

His parents fretted at his reluctance to marry, for in those days marriage was for profit and appearance, and it was deemed improper for a man of Moana’s age to remain alone. Every day they would beg him to choose a bride from the many willing suitors.

They did not know that Moana mourned for a secret love, Melanchor of the Swan People.

The Fish Who Grew Legs

Folk Tales of the Sea People is nearing an end--this is the second to last story! A tale of hope and transformation.

The Fish Who Grew Legs, July 2014

The Fish Who Grew Legs

There was once a large fish. His name was Shui, and he had scales of blue with black stripes, and bright yellow fins. He lived in a sea not far from here, amongst others of his kind and close to a village of Nereids.

Shui envied the Nereids, for they were slender and fast, and had not tails but beautiful legs, which allowed them to walk upon the land, should they wish it.

When Shui watched the Nereids, he thought that he should be one of them. He, too, wanted to play in the water and visit the land. He wished he had legs to wiggle instead of his tail, and thought that surely he should have been born with them. But when Shui told his friends that he wanted to be a Nereid, they laughed at him.

“You cannot be a Nereid,” they said. “For you have no legs, and your face is that of a fish, and your body is that of a fish, and you are fish through and through.”

“My heart is one of a Nereid!” insisted Shui. “Though my body is that of a fish, I cannot change my heart.”

His friends laughed so hard that Shui swam away, sad.

It so happened that a Nereid boy found him. Though Shui was a big fish – bigger than the boy – the Nereid was not afraid, for he knew fish to be gentle.

“Why are you sad?” asked the Nereid.

“Because I have the body of a fish and the heart of a Nereid, and everybody laughs at me,” said Shui.

The Nereid patted Shui’s head. “They’re very mean,” he said. “You can be a Nereid if you want to be.”

“How can I go to the land without legs?” asked Shui.

Six Silly Sisters

Well, it's been a week since I last posted anything from Folk Tales of the Sea People, so it's about time I posted some more, isn't it!
I would have posted sooner, but the past week or so has been busy, and when I've returned home from the various events I've blogged about lately, I've been feeling pretty tired. Gallons of tea is what has been keeping me going lately!

Anyway, without further ado, here is the next story...

Six Silly Sisters, July 2014

Six Silly Sisters

There were once three Siren sisters. Their names were Muirgel, Muirgen and Muiren. Muirgel was the oldest sister, Muirgen was the middle sister, and Muiren was the youngest. The three sisters went everywhere together, and what they liked most was to swim to an inlet where they would meet interesting Land Walkers. Their parents warned them not to go there, for it was a dangerous place, but the sisters paid them no regard.

One day, when they were swimming up the inlet, they met three young Land Walker women who looked almost identical. The young women had taken off their shoes and socks and were paddling in the water.

“Oh look, Muirgen!” said Muiren. “Those three Land Walkers look the same!”

“Let’s go and talk to them,” said Muirgel. She called out from the water, and waved to the young women. “Ahoy!”

A Raft on the Lagoon

Here is the next instalment of Folk Tales of the Sea People. This time, a tale of Mermaids, Humans and Draugs. With regards the illustration, it seems I need more practise with drawing ghostly things upon the water! But the story is much better--I hope you enjoy it.

A Raft on the Lagoon, July 2014

A Raft on the Lagoon

Long ago, not far from here, there was a lagoon, which has long since merged with the sea. Close to that sea there lived a Human sailor, who often sailed upon it with his little raft, which he had built himself. The sailor’s name was Irving, and his heart lay with a lovely Mermaid named Nerissa.

As Irving’s house was so close to the water, Nerissa was happy with the idea of marrying Irving, and when he proposed it so, her parents gave their blessing. Happily, they planned their wedding day, unaware that Irving had a rival for Nerissa’s affections in the shape of his best man, Conway.

Conway was also a sailor, and he was a very jealous man. He decided that he could not allow Irving and Nerissa to marry, for he wanted Nerissa for himself.

So a week before the wedding, when Nerissa had taken a trip away to prepare, Conway sabotaged Irving’s raft.

The Wily Old Glashtyn

Here comes another story from my collection, Folk Tales of the Sea People.
I'm not overly happy with the painting I did for this one, but I'm still posting it as it still counts towards my goal of 52 paintings in a year! I think this picture is the result of what happens when I don't think enough about what I'm doing... Anyway, enjoy the story. It has a few surprises.

The Wily Old Glashtyn, July 2014

The Wily Old Glashtyn

Once upon a time, in a kingdom where Merfolk reigned, there lived a mermaid named Damla. She was young and pretty, and caught the eye of many young mermen, though she held out against their advances for she dreamt of being carried away by a handsome young prince.

Damla prided herself on her pale pink hair, for it was such an unusual colour, and her eyes which were bright blue and looked so splendid. Damla’s scales were like sapphires and her tail supple and curvaceous. Though she did not court vanity over her appearance, Damla knew it was her looks that drew so many men to her. They were rich and clever, handsome and charming, but still she denied their advances, and would not allow a single man to court her. She held out on her hope of a handsome prince, and was caught daydreaming many a time when she was supposed to help with her lady’s laundry.

A Dragon in the Sea

It's been a week since I last posted a story from Folk Tales of the Sea People, so here's the next one...

A Dragon in the Sea, July 2014

A Dragon in the Sea

There was once, long ago, a Dragon, who lived in the sea. His name was Takumi, and though he had great golden scales and long whiskers that were quite admirable, the other folk that lived in that stretch of water disliked him, for the fire within Takumi’s belly made the water quite hot. Whenever he went by, all kinds would swim away, be they shark, Merman, dolphin or Nereid. Takumi was shunned by society, and it made him quite grumpy. He decided that, should anyone cross his path, he would eat them. Takumi thought they deserved it, for rejecting him so unkindly without knowing anything of him.

And so, he became all the more unpopular.

Three Brothers and a Draug

Here comes another story from Folk Tales of the Sea People.

Three Brothers and a Draug, July 2014

Three Brothers and a Draug

There were once three brothers. Their names were Marinus, Pontius and Pelagius, and apart from their names they were identical down to the very last detail. Each had short red hair, each had pale green flesh and glossy, emerald-coloured scales. When they spoke and when they sang, you could not have told the difference. Whether they danced on two legs or swam by tail, they remained perfect copies of each other.

They lived together in a house with three of everything, and had much fun being identical brothers, for it was rare and they were much admired for it. Their identical nature also allowed them to play many tricks, and it is for these tricks that this story is told.