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The Island of Slippery Souls: Part 4
When we left off last week, Clara had just ridden the bull to the outskirts of Clenchport. Now it was time to confront the king.
King Clench stood at a castle balcony and surveyed his realm. His kingly soul was stuck in his kingly body, just as the souls of the children and the grown-ups were stuck tight in the soul storage tank in Tower Number 3.
The streets below him were quite orderly. The gentlemen greeted the ladies, the ladies tended the children, and the children walked quietly and politely behind their parents. Carriages proceeded quietly down the street, and any time a horse pooped, an attendant rushed to scoop it into a bin. Parks were quiet. Hymns in the cathedral were subdued. Ships floated neatly at the wharf.
The Old People’s Home on the edge of town was safely locked up—from the outside. The king patted the key in his pocket and smiled.
Tonight his work would be complete. Tomorrow would mark the start of the kingdom of predictability. … |
