What Dunbar Likes...
What Dunbar likes is little girls, he likes them for their pretty shoes. Dunbar eats up the little girls and wears their shoes. New shoes get dirty quickly, then Dunbar needs a meal and clean footwear.
Dunbar is obsessed by the number 3, he counts off the most important events in his dreadful life like a child repeats by rote its times table.
"The three noons of Tine." This is a flat, almost dismissive tone.
"The six maidens at the Inner Gate." This is performed in a lascivious manner and with such a wet clacking of his jaws that even I am offended.
Nine is three and three and three, three ages of child, babe, infant, food. Three stations of the Spear, raise, throw, impale. Three quarters of the day, dawn, noon, sunset." Once after I heard him perform this triplet in an excited and rambling patter, his voice dropped to a whisper and he added. "For the black quarter always belongs to Her."
"The Twelve." He always stops and shudders, and if the moon is dark he glances nervously around. Sometimes he clutches his shoulder and rubs it as if to relieve some phantom ague, and I wonder. They say She is missing a talon, am I seeing its hiding place.
"The fifteen turns of the clock on the Fifth Year's Day." And off he goes, skipping away as if his shrivelled, blighted heart was restored to blood and vigour.
Art - Amelia, words - Mike J.