It is a pleasant surprise to meet you here.

My name is Jeriald Sheppard, but you can call me what you like.

It has been a long time since there has been someone to come here.

Would you like a cookie? I don't suppose you could if you would.

Far, far off and away that you are.

Now, let us have a chat, shall we?

I don't suppose that you had prior plans, if you did then I wouldn't expect you to be here now would I.

This, is not a tale to be sung or sold.

This is not a story or a breath of life.

This is more of a chit-chat. A finding of souls and meaning of places.

If you are listening, then maybe I shouldn't sputter about so much and should continue my song.

As it were, there is much to be said but not to be given.

Rare that you find an easy answer, often they lie in places where you could find what you want but never within arm's reach.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It is a fanciful thing that.

The places that you put the mind, the heart and the thoughts that you keep within them.

I often wonder myself as I tread through these steps..

But look at me, lost in space again.

If you wanted an answer, which question would it be?

I couldn't rightly find what I was looking for if I needed to..

The eyes you see. They've gone bad.

Hard to place it really, well, hard to place anything when you can't see.

I think rather, I might offer some advice.

Decent as it may be, it is nothing great and won't truly help much along the way.

Always too much between where you look, never a good answer there you can't really see much of them now can you.

Ah… Well. You see, there is a place, a special one that doesn't really find its way into conversation much.

You can't define it or it doesn't exist, facsimiles of proximites, complications and delusions.

All the metrics of what doesn't rightly have one spot in a linear abacus yes?

Now it seems that time ever does draw shorter.

I can't much remember how long the candle has been lit, it ever does so seem to dim.

A beautiful sight really.

From all which it could be, how could one say where it began?

Funny as that is there are no decent answers.

A drip of wax, and time rules itself null.

How could that be?

I can't truly answer that myself and here I thought myself to be a scholar.

Well, I suppose that you might want a bit more then that, coming all this way.

To what end, though, I might ask if I may?

To a place where answers have no voice and meaning has no permanence?

Where am I? Well, you could ask that to yourself, where are you?

What, are you? And how does that involve me or what kind of other questions you might have?

Forgive me, time has ran out and the ink is running low.

A lowly man such as myself has no right to waste so much time.

Dear Regards,

Sheppard