We are so young: sixteen this coming year. But we remain rooted, facing one another implacably. They are happy, your people, are they not? It is healthy, all this coming and going. He was not a riddler.ĭo you feel as I feel? Do you think as I think? Here we are, all crouching in our circle, so close to one another. He grew tall and broad of shoulder, but even in the prime of his youth he moved with the deliberate calm of old age. He worked the fields on his family’s farm, he carted vegetables to market, he paid his respects to the temple gods at all the appropriate times. So he stopped trying to be clever and went on his way, moving through his life in a straight line from day before to day after. But every time he tried to twist something sideways, he found that his tongue would not cooperate. He had tried, once or twice in his childhood, to craft a joke or to weave a pair of clever words together. From the time he could speak, he always called things exactly what they were and nothing else. The man called Dirt was a master of riddles. “Harlequin Moon” originally aired as PodCastle 393. This week’s episode was chosen by associate editor Hamilton Perez. This episode is a part of our Tales from the Vaults series, in which a member of PodCastle’s staff chooses a backlist episode to highlight and discuss.
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