The Peaks of the Citadel

As record rains reveal new leaks, I recall epic adventures in roofing…

Journeys of the Clayfoot

Overcast was the day and bold were our hearts as we ventured forth to climb the outer walls of the citadel to its lofty peaks.

Long it vexed my heart sore as to why I so rarely need water the spathiphyllum in the corner—the lily, though lovely, gave me no peace. Then came a night of torrential rain and a clue to this mystery with the resonant crash of sheetrock down from above.

Our quest, then, was to learn what fell reason there might be for rain to enter and despoil the attic and interior of the great hall. Dismayed we were to find foul rot and storm wrought damage on both shingle and sheath, and we vowed an oath to repair.

“Insurance?” I said, for hope was in my heart that we might contract a craftsman for the labor.

He shook his head. “Not so, for the deductible is…

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About clayfoot2

I'm a Midwest writer, artist, tinker, and jane-of-many-trades with far too many interests. My primary genre is speculative fiction--science fiction, fantasy, steampunk, slipstream, as well as other sub- and sub-sub-genres under that wide umbrella--but I also write poetry and creative nonfiction. "Tinker" is the operative descriptor for me, although "juggler" works, too. I love working with a variety of forms and styles, so my stories range from traditional to literary to experimental. I have the boredom threshold of a three-year-old but the tenacity of a terrier when I'm on any project(s). I enjoy the challenges and adventures of the mind and of life. My husband and our dogs understand. The cat doesn't.
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