Niche of Time
Well, for a start, this shall be the home for my Biographical Inventory of Books. After that, who knows?
Saturday, June 20, 2026
Ogress Guarding a Clutch
Sigh. Ogres do not have
mammary glands; they are not mammals. A fact I could not convince the AI of.
Apparently, it thinks that if something is female, it must have boobs of some
sort. The distinguishing characteristic of an Ogress, is, of course, "a
type of scaly crest on their heads, analogous to hair in other races. When it
is down, it even somewhat resembles hair. It is raised in anger or to display
superiority." An individual Ogress lays four or five eggs. They are then
collected into clutches of about thirty that one female will guard until they
hatch. Only about 1 in 10 Ogres is female.
Update!
Friday, June 19, 2026
"He's Not Such a Bad Little Imp, After All"
Krezdorn!
Far in the dim of
a summer's eve
I seem to see,
past the shadow's weave,
On the verge of
sight
A distant light
Sifting through
the murmuring trees.
Krezdorn--magic
Krezdorn--
Where the mystic
wizards weave--
Krezdorn--faery
Krezdorn--
In the Land of
Make-Believe!
In the gloom of
the noon of an autumn day
I seem to hear,
as the dead leaves play,
The fading knell
Of a crystal bell
In the wind where
the bare trees groan and sway.
Krezdorn--eldritch
Krezdorn--
Where the fauns
and satyrs play--
Krezdorn--mythic
Krezdorn--
Full of wandering
dreams astray!
Many years ago I saw the name Krezdorn Street in the phonebook and thought what a good name that was for an over-the-top, goofy, somewhat twee fantasy land. This poem was the result.








