“Let’s go to the Faraway Tree! It’s nearby, in the cemetery. Just a stone’s throw away from where I word slay!” – RCS
I first stumbled upon writer and author Richard on Twitter and Instagram four years ago. We immediately connected and became good friends.
It’s dank and cold so with chicken scarf asphyxiating me, I walk Greykeeper to the Crypt Keeper So the horror whore in me imagines.
There’s no crypt in this sterile modern post-70s planting ground. No character, no ravens, no ivy clad seraphim with broken wing and eternal grin. No cracked vaults, no crematorium. No little stone chapel behind wrought iron gate. Crass carnations glare gaudily from children’s graves. Bought from petrol stations by emotions too numb.
Along concrete path we stroll noting dates, ages and strange names until an unassuming tool shed appears. Window glass green with moss because no-one gives a toss. Within it lies a beer can and lonesome white Reebok. Drunk itself to death because cool no more.
I gaze up the nearby Faraway tree. It’s bark worse than its bite, aged from the elements and withered away by the mourning ever around it. Leaves absent awaiting spring but life readying set to explode. Fracturing the buried bones caught up within its roots. Greykeeper’s guardian on lonesome evenings looks a sorrowful state but is merely slumbering ready to awaken. Protect.
Protect. A word one would wish upon all whom you love. The Faraway tree is Greykeeper’s escape route. The Enchanted Wood long replaced by a concrete jungle of sterile generic gravestones. But the Faraway tree still stands proud providing the ideal writing spot.
No character in a Dungeons and Dragons game, Greykeeper is real. A real person devoted to his art. With laptop on lap, his rhythmic words and music spurt from his arteries. A flow unstemmable yet there’s no danger of exsanguination. He’s survived much and now it’s time to thrive.
Warmth and light ooze like lava from every passionate pore. Greykeeper of the dark chapel is just a lion in the sunshine who likes to purr in his writing spot under the Faraway Tree… Claws out and word slay!
Thanks to my husband, family and friends for the education and encouragement with my writing. Without you I’d be lost.
His series of books entitled All of Me are available to purchase. Find out more HERE
© Copyright: Sharon Lawson™